My new car has one toy that may be the single reason I bought this particular car. It has the Sync system where I plug in my iPod and then can play songs on it using the voice recognition part of the sync system. “Play Artist Tiffany” I might say and… well, it wouldn’t actually play Tiffany because I’m not a 14 year old girl and this isn’t 1987, but I could tell it to play any artist in my iPod and it will play it. Pretty cool.
Swee’Pea and TheMonk have begun to appreciate this feature as well. Often times when we get in the car, TheMonk, especially, asks to hear his favorite song. I’ll announce, “Play artist Daniel Powter” and the song “Bad Day” will suddenly start playing. Usually, we are only driving a short distance and don’t have much time to listen to more than one song. The other day, however, we were on a bit of a longer drive so after TheMonk’s song ended, I decided to request Swee’Pea’s favorite song, Fergie’s Big Girls Don’t Cry. “Play Artist Fergie” I said and, sure enough, the familiar refrains began to play… “Da, Da, Da, Daaaaa…” I soon lose track of the song as I
think about what I’m going to have for lunch focus on driving.
But something soon jolts me back to reality. Something loud and quite clear. You see, I had not thought about the fact that I have two Fergie songs on my iPod. The first, as you know, is Big Girls Don’t Cry and is a fine song. The second song is a little song called London Bridge. London Bridge is also a fine song. If you want to teach your children to talk like drunken sailors. I am reminded of this small fact as all I can hear blaring from the speakers is “OH SHIT! OH SHIT! OH SHIT!” Now I’m sure there are other words to the song but at that moment in time, cruising down the highway at 64.5 mph, all I can hear is one of the biggest four-letter words there is. And I can’t get the Sync lady to change the song fast enough.
I finally reach over and turn down the stereo all way down. Silence surrounds us and I glance in my rear-view mirror to see if Swee’Pea and TheMonk were paying attention. Perhaps they weren’t paying attention. Perhaps they were thinking about what they were going to have for lunch and totally missed it. Perhaps they are so oblivious to bad words that it hasn’t even registered what they, in fact, heard.
Seconds passed by and I began to relax. They hadn’t heard. Everything was right in the world and my innocent children would remain pure for another day. I relaxed back into my chair and reached to turn up the radio. And then I heard a noise from the back seat.
TheMonk: “Oh, Shit!”
Swee’Pea: “Oh, Shit!”
Me: “Oh, shit.”
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