Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Julliard Elementary School, 1st period
Both my husband and I are music lovers. Fortunately, our kids have always listened to whatever we like, which has allowed us to mostly avoid horrors like the Wiggles, and KidBop. It also means that the first time Derek actually sang us a tune, it went something like "Daddy was a bank robber, but he never hurt nobody" (thank you husband, and the Clash). My spouse, however, maintains that I began "ruining" my sons in-utero, by exposing them in their vulnerable developmental state to repeated listenings of Grease and other classic showtunes. Hey, I lived High School Musical, so we may have to get used to the idea of future thespians...For example, this week at the dinner table I was enthusiastically describing the Hip Hop dance class I just started attending, when 5-year old Riley suddenly exclaimed, "Mommy, I want to take Hip Hop, too!" Husband looked appalled, and asked in a strangled voice, "Do you know what that even means?" "Sure!" my son chirped, and promptly launched himself out of his seat to hop around the kitchen on one foot, bent forward at the waist, with the other leg extended behind him like some kind of demented flamingo. "See me, I'm hip-hopping!" Yes, you are. You go, funky little boy.