I’ve alluded to this previously, but I’m not sure everyone understands. . .
I have ruined my child.
What, you say. Surely not. Not you, Katy, who reads books on development and creates lesson plans and travels to other countries to give him the best life possible. You could not possibly have ruined your child. He’s only two.
But I have. My mother knows. She actually outed me to a nurse at the hospital. Of course, the nurse didn’t belive her.
You see, it’s rapidly becoming clear that Charlie has developed an unhealthy obsession with rap music.
There. I said it.
I started off with the best of intentions. Charlie and I take a couple of long drives a week. We usually cross the bridge over Lake Pontchartrain at least twice a week and that adds up to about two hours in the car total for each trip. I would dutifully put in either a Fisher Price alphabet CD or a Fisher Price Numbers CD. I mean, I wasn’t going to waste precious developmental time with stuff like Top 40! This is my baby’s brain we’re talking about here!
And the songs were cute and I didn’t mind them too much and then all of the sudden I was like IF I HAVE TO HEAR KITTEN KABOODLE ONE MORE TIME.
So I put on the radio for a few minutes.
Just a few minutes more.
Half the drive–that’s it!
Well, seriously, nobody ever died from listening to Top 40 music, right?
So here we are today. He likes some guitarists, Beyonce, Lady Gaga, Brit brit, and pretty much any rap song you can think of. If you play country he will completely lose his mind with the screaming. It’s ridiculous.
I sounds like I’m exaggerating, right?
Here’s a picture of Charlie listening to some random song:
And here he is listening to “Come, Baby, Come” by K7:
You may not know this, but that is actually the CP version of dropping it like it’s hot (def 1).