This Might Be They Might Be Giants
by Rockstar Mommy
I like to think that my kids have pretty good taste in music for a pair of people who can't put on a pair of shoes unless they're held together with velcro. As long as the tempo stays upbeat and doesn't get too "scawwy", they dig it. The Clash, Misfits, Bowie, Blondie - they like it all, which makes me swell with pride. I try not to get my hopes up too high, though, since they also dance and sing along to a purple dinosaur as if he was the second coming of Elvis.
About two years ago, my brother -my evil, evil brother- brought over the They Might Be Giants kids CD, "No!", as a gift for my daughter. He did this to show that he is a loving, caring uncle who often thinks about his favorite niece. He also did this to show that he is still pissed off at me for that time our dad found the rolling papers I hid in the glove compartment of his brand new car and had his keys taken away from him for two months. (Consider us square, dude.)
My daughter immediately loved the CD. What child wouldn't with lyrics as obnoxious as, "Clap your hands! Stomp your feet! Jump in the air!"? (Though the lyrics never instruct to do so, she has taken it upon herself to to do these things as loud as humanly possible at the most inopportune and head-poundingly painful moments with a fierce dedication.)
In the last article I wrote, I mentioned how one of the perks to having kids is that you can blame a less than desirable iPod selection on them. Then, Kali accused me of abusing this practice by using my kids as an excuse to why They Might Be Giants might occasionally make it's way onto the shuffle. I wanted to defend myself because, Hey! I am not a They Might Be Giants fan! I have musical scruples! It would go against everything I stand for and crumble the structure of all that I believe to be Right and Wrong in this world! But, I didn't, because I figured no one would believe me. And it's a good thing I didn't, because that would have been a great, big, fat lie.
As I was driving alone the other day, a They Might Be Giants song came on the shuffle. I was slapped in the face with a cold case of reality when I realized that I had made it more than half way through the song without turning it off. And not only was I listening to it, but I was into it. There I was, with no children in the car, singing along, clapping my hands, stomping my feet, and, had it not been for the fact that I was strapped into the driver's seat of a vehicle going 70 along the highway, I'm quite certain I would have been jumping in the air.
I thought that I didn't like They Might Be Giants. But apparently, I was wrong.
This is what has become of my life. And my iPod shuffle.
RSM swears that there are no songs-by-a-purple-dinosaur on her iPod