I learned a long time ago that I am not a Wiggles soundtrack kind of mom.
Not that I’m knocking The Wiggles, by any means. I think they’re fantastic. But there’s only so many times you can hear the same songs played over and over again before your brain starts to turn into cold spaghetti. Personally, if I hear The Wiggles too many times, I start to want to bang my head into the steering wheel, smashed banana style.
Or is it ban-AH-na?
Anyway, I digress.
The point is, when my kids and I are in the car, we listen my my music. But I usually filter the selections so they don’t hear anything that might be picked up by young, curious little ears.
For instance, sometimes we listen to the Dixie Chicks. But I always fast forward past “Goodbye, Earl.”
Sometimes we listen to 80’s classic rock. “Eye of the Tiger”? OK for kidlets under 5. “Pour Some Sugar on Me”? Not so much.
Sometimes it’s old-school country. My son rocks “The Ring of Fire” like nobody’s business. And, yes, sometimes there are questions asked about why there is a boy named Sue. We work through those issues as they arise.
And sometimes, when dad’s in the car, we listen to butt-rock. I don’t worry too much about filtering those songs. Really, if I can’t understand a word they’re saying in those Def Leppard songs, I’m not worried that my kids will.
But sometimes, when I’m zoning out in the car, I forget my mom filter. Such was the case the other day when Bobo and I took a short roadtrip.
When Madonna’s Immaculate Collection started blaring in iPod shuffle mode, I was jazzed. We got Into the Groove. We rocked out to “Holiday” and “Lucky Star.” Bobo loved “Material Girl.” You know, because we live in a material world.
But the tone took a more serious note when the next song started playing. You know. That song.
I hadn’t even realized what was on. But I immediately snapped back into focus when the question piped up from the back seat:
“Mom,” my daughter asked. “What’s a FURCHIN?”
I have to admit, I froze. How in the world do you explain “Like a Virgin” to a 5 year-old? Do you even try?
“It’s a strawberry daquiri made for kids!”
“It’s an undiscovered piece of land.”
“A name of a record label.”
“If your father has anything to say about it, what you will be until the ripe old age of 40.”
Sadly, none of these definitions popped into my head at the time.
Instead, I floundered. I panicked.
Instead of brilliance or insight, what popped into my head was, “I think she said Like a Merman.” And I promptly switched over to another song.
I know. I’m obviously no rhymer. But it was the best that I could come up with in my flustered state.
Fortunately, though, this satisfied my daughter. She had seen The Little Mermaid, so maybe this made sense to her. And, for the rest of the car ride, there were no more questions asked about virgins. Or Mermen, for that matter.
But when I got home, I realized I need to refine my iPod selections again. And I immediately started creating a playlist suitable for small ears.
I may have even thrown some Wiggles in there.
Because sadly, I might have to admit. Maybe The Wiggles aren’t so bad after all.
