Nick has become rather demanding in the car. For the last few months, he won't let me listen to NPR. "No talking! Want music. Turn on the music!" Sigh. I miss NPR, but it's not worth the trouble to fight him on that. Instead, Nick begs me to turn on music, and he's picky about what I listen to. He'll tell me, "No, not that song. Want another song!" Thank goodness I don't listen to actual children's music. I couldn't handle that in the car. I need to relax while I drive.
I'm pretty eclectic in my music tastes, but this morning some Grateful Dead came on, and I'll admit. . . I was singing along. I didn't realize for awhile that Nick was singing along, too. It was the Casey Jones song--you know the one--about the train. After the song ended, I turned off the radio to ask Nick a question, and he kept right on singing. . . "Drivin' that train. . . high on cocaine. . . " over and over again.
|Yes, that is indeed partially scraped off wallpaper that you see on the walls. Having a baby slows down the home improvement plans, you see.|
I winced slightly and hoped he wouldn't sing those particular lyrics in public. Eh, oh well. There are worse songs he could be singing. (And he has. Remind me to tell you about the time Nick and I jammed to Nelly's "Hot in Herre." Or not.)
Anyhow, on the way home about three hours later, Nick got mad at me when I was flipping through the stations. "NO Mommy! I want the train song! Turn on the train song!"
Then, this afternoon, he was playing with his Thomas train while singing what he calls "The Train Song." It was quite cute. So Nick has a new favorite song.
I supposed I'd better track down all of my Dead albums. We've got a new little fan.