Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Captive

When you're in the van, driving home from karate with a 10 year old, you are a captive. Captivated? Not always. But Evan does appreciate a good tune on the radio, so some days it's absolutely blissful to rock out with the windows down and pretend that the cute guys in the cars passing by are all checking me out (we are not going to mention that I am driving a mini-van and have my 10 yr old beside me. This is MY FANTASY, yo).

Alas, yesterday was not a rock-it-out day.

The conversation, as I remember it*:

~~~
"Mama? Is this Pink Floyd?" Evan asked as he turned down the radio. (HE TURNED IT DOWN. Oh yes, he did.)

"Yep. It's 'Hey You'." I turned the music back up and commenced with my impersonation of the Olsen twins' version of how to make a perfect pursed lip pose while casually grooving to the music.

Moments later, he turned it down again.

"Isn't this the same song that Mr. Blotto sang at the concert I went to?"

"Yep. They sure did." I turned it back up til the windows shook.

He listens for a second and then he has the GALL to turn it down AGAIN and says "Mr. Blotto sang it better."

Guffawing, I hover my finger over the volume button and sputter, "I'll tell Daddy and Uncle Kelly. I'm sure they're gonna love hearing this one..." and I turned that jam back UP and I rocked it out once more, lips perfectly pursed and mind positively BLOWN...


*Which really is the only opinion that matters here on the blog o'Tracey now, isn't it? Hence the words "MY BLOG and account of what happens in our lives" and not "the FAMILY'S blog and accounts of what they PERCEIVE happens in our lives."

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