I’m leaving tomorrow to take the kids on our annual pilgrimage to D.C. for Memorial Day Weekend. It’s a long, but fairly scenic, drive from Upstate NY; however, the portable DVD player, Game Boy and Nintendo DS help the kids cope.
Three years ago, when Son #2 was just two, we were in MD, nearing the end of the trip and it was late. Instead of falling asleep in his car seat, Son #2 began frantically trying to tell me something. Because he was crying and not exactly enunciating well at that age, I couldn’t understand a word. “Slow down. I don’t know what you’re saying.” This chaos and frustration lasted for what seemed like an eternity until Son #1 spoke up. “He wants to hear AC/DC.” “What?? How does he know AC/DC?” “Well, he heard it in a record store with daddy and he loved it. So daddy bought him the CD.”
I called the hubby. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I put the CD in the trunk just in case.” I pulled over, got the CD out, placed it in the player, and Son #2 promptly fell asleep. So much for Beethoven.
Since then, my little rocker has moved on to Green Day and now is the proud owner of his own acoustic guitar, electric guitar and drum set. We’ll see if I can get them to listen to Amy Winehouse this weekend or if that’s too mellow for their budding, Gwar-like taste. Oy vey.
