...for a different kind of girl

silent surburban girl releasing her voice, not yet knowing what all she wants to say about her life and the things that make it spin. do you have to be 18 to be here? you'll know when i know.

Monday, March 15, 2010

he will sing, sing a new song (at least i hope)

I've mentioned several times here that my youngest son is a huge fan of music. If he's not entertaining me with elaborate tales and horrible jokes, he's belting out the songs that fill his heart. His set list remains heavy with music from the Black Eyed Peas and Beyonce, but over the last several days, he's been fine tuning some new material. If I need to find him, all I have to do is keep my ears open for the chorus of Lady Gaga's song Telephone, which is his latest favorite. He's left his head and his heart on the dance floor.

And on the swings.

And over there near his Fisher Price Bat Cave.

And in the bathroom when he should have been brushing his teeth.

While we were at the YMCA this afternoon, he made a mad dash for the Beatles Rock Band set up that's new there and commanded the mic like he'd just stepped out of Abbey Road studios and was singing I Feel Fine to an audience of screaming girls. He is the walrus, goo goo goo joob.

I adore the fact he loves the classics. The complete Beatles catalog. We Are The Champions. Mr. Roboto. U Can't Touch This. Baby Got Back. That's just a few of the all the timeless melodies that come together in this one little 8 year old hits package that will have you calling out "Encore!"

But wait! There's more!

After we left the YMCA, we had to run a few errands. While on our way home from our last stop, I heard him humming a delightful, and somewhat familiar melody from the backseat. Before long, I found myself humming along, trying to determine the song we were now dueting on. Two seconds before it came to me, my little maestro blurted out the chorus:

"I jizz in my pants."

Gah! Dear Lord. I was OK with the whole "Oh, my god, Becky, look at her butt..." business because he never got as far as singing about how things get sprung. But this?! Where did he even hear this song in the first place to even perform it so perfectly?! I'm asking as the mother who once accidentally forgot her son, then a wee preschooler, was a captive audience in the back of the mini while I sang along powerfully and with incredibly pitchy feeling to NIN's Closer...while we were in the parent pick-up line...at the elementary school...oh, yes, I did. Did I mention the windows were all rolled down, too? No? They were.

As soon as he blurted out that delightful little ditty, I brought the curtain down on my little lizard king. Is that a giant hook coming from stage left to yank you from the spotlight? Why, yes, I believe it is!

"Oh, honey, hmmm..." I stammered. "I think that's a song you just shouldn't sing publicly."

Jizz in my pants? No. No, no, no, I scream in my head (with a chorus of thousands backing me up). Happily, and without a great deal of questions (although there were a couple of "Why, Mom?" queries tossed in), my little performer took a bow.

Goodnight, Cleveland. You were a great audience.

*************************

p.s. - Friends...oh, friends. I can't end this without saying thank you a hundred times over for your comments, emails, and DMs in response to my last post. You all gave me a different way to view courage, and I must admit that some of you made me cry a little, some of you made me laugh a lot, and all of you made me think, which is why I just sat silently for days after writing that post. I just needed to think. Please know I am going to make a call to my doctor and I am going to do it soon. This week. I promise. I think that beyond the lump, there's some other things I truly must talk to her about because when I break things down these days, I am not a happy person. It's exhausting some days to know that at the end of the day, the reason I'm so exhausted is because I've spent the bulk of the hours trying so hard to BE happy...or at least trying to convince people I am.

I just need you to know that the kindness and thought given to me by all of you - some of you I've not yet had the chance to 'get to know' yet - via this bizarre Internet thing is appreciated. I feel like I want to go all Pink Ladies during our senior year at Rydell High with all of you. We're going to rule this school!

Just know that I get to be Rizzo.

Labels:

24 Comments:

Blogger The Savage said...

To be first commenter is made of awesome but not the awesome that is your song singing son....

Monday, March 15, 2010 11:33:00 PM  
Blogger bernthis said...

I'm proud of you, seriously. I remember blasting a song that had a phrase in French in it that translated meant I want to sleep with you' it was fine b/c my kid didn't speak French but holy fuck, her friend in the backseat spoke it fluently.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 12:04:00 AM  
Blogger Cocotte said...

Better stick with the U2, right?

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 6:12:00 AM  
Anonymous Cheryl said...

That happy mask, it do get heavy.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 7:13:00 AM  
Blogger WILLIAM said...

When Bruce Willis was dead at the end of Sixth Sense ..

I just ate a grape...

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 7:29:00 AM  
Anonymous Brian said...

Just do it!

ps - my wife, the daughters in law and their moms are all headed out to see Grease, the musical, this weekend for one huge girls day out. Funny you should use a Grease reference in closing.

It's great that your son feels free enough to just sing his heart out where ever he is. But where do kids hear these songs? How many of them know what it means? (Don't answer that, I dono;t want to know!)

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 8:06:00 AM  
OpenID Sus said...

Hahah that is hilarious. We are currently trying to teach our 1 1/2 year old how to say Douchebag. We may come to regret this, but for now I find it freakin' hilarious and SOOOO worth the pain that may come later.

And I get to be Sandy. "Tell me about it....stud."

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 9:08:00 AM  
Blogger Meg said...

I unfortunately taught my goddaughter to say tits. My bad. I can only imagine the shock when you thought "how do I explain what THAT means?!?" Yikes.

Glad you felt all the internet love. That's the point, right?

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 10:07:00 AM  
Blogger Craig said...

I don't even remember what it was, but just last week, I was doing some Home Maintenance in 6F's closet, and there was some rap something-or-other coming from her boombox that was so, um, explicit, that I just had to confiscate the disc. "My friend made it for me; I only listen to two songs on it. . ." OK, so you've got ten minutes to get those two songs onto your ipod, and then the disc is mine. . .

No mystery to me where they hear the stuff - it's just in the air they breathe. But even just trying to be the 'gatekeeper' for the inputs to their souls can feel like plugging the dike with my fingers. . .

But hey - your son, Beatles Rock Band and all - can I adopt him? 'Cuz, like, we've got a lot to offer each other, knowwhatImean? . . .

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 10:52:00 AM  
Blogger Amy@Bitchin'WivesClub said...

My biggest blunder, and oh hellz yeah it was a doozy, was making the boys their own setlists made from the songs of Guitar Hero and Rock Band. I thought I was such a good mommy....

And then my husband came up to me the next day and said, "Honey, did you mean to put 'Creep' on the kids iPod's?" I was all like, yeah, of course, that song is so awesome! ANd then he reminded me that is says "you're so fucking special" a few times.

Not something you want to hear warbled from the backseat, my friend, not any more than hearing about jizz....

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 11:21:00 AM  
Blogger Kate Coveny Hood said...

Okay - I had to look up how it's spelled, but here is something my twins like to sing (courtesy of my song stylings in the car):

gitchi gitchi ya ya da da?
gitchi gitchi ya ya here?
mocha chocolata ya ya
creole lady marmalade!

and that's where I stop singing, because well...you know.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 3:02:00 PM  
Anonymous angie said...

please call.

i waited for a couple of months back in 1998... the outcome could have majorly been different had i called sooner.

xo

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 3:34:00 PM  
Blogger Anna See said...

my college friend had to tell me what that phrase meant. eek.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 3:57:00 PM  
Blogger Maureen@IslandRoar said...

Oh, this made me laugh. What a cute little rock star!

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 4:09:00 PM  
Blogger Pat said...

Your son? Too cute! I love that he just sings away! He doesn't know what some of the words mean they're just in the song!

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 6:47:00 PM  
Blogger Pat said...

I must have missed your last post, so I went back to read it. I didn't know about the lump. DON'T PUT IT OFF. CALL NOW. DON'T FEEL SILLY IF IT'S NOTHING. Please, please call. I mean it!

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 6:55:00 PM  
Anonymous Cat said...

I find this extra funny because only just yesterday did I hear this song played on my husband's iPhone when his best friend called to wish him a happy birthday. It's apparently the ringtone for this friend.

I don't care for this particular song, though I am a fan of D--k in a Box. ;) I just relayed this entertaining post to my husband who replied with "AWESOME!"

Probably not the reaction you're looking for though.

And hey, look! I'm commenting! I never do that anymore!

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 7:34:00 PM  
Blogger anymommy said...

Jizz. Please let my children not learn that word.

Call. Love to you.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010 11:43:00 PM  
Blogger just making my way said...

First - I had never seen the "jizz in my pants" thing. High-larious!! My inner boy just high-fived Seth.

Second - You deserve to be truly happy. Don't ever think otherwise.

xoxo

Wednesday, March 17, 2010 11:33:00 AM  
Blogger That girl from Shallotte said...

You know you totally got me on this one! I refuse to use that annoying acronym, so let me just say I reacted audibly. :)

Thursday, March 18, 2010 10:11:00 AM  
Blogger Christina Lee said...

wow I miss a lot when I'm on vacation!!! BIG BIG *HUGS* to you! BTW, I'm from Cleveland and I saw the whole show b/f the curtains came down :)

Friday, March 19, 2010 6:24:00 AM  
Anonymous mommygeek said...

wow, kids say the darndest things huh? ;-)

Glad you are going to call the doctor. You deserve to be happy and healthy, hon.

Friday, March 19, 2010 12:51:00 PM  
Blogger Carolyn...Online said...

Oh man... Been there. I finally told my girls that sometimes I can sing the songs and they can't because the songs are rated PG-13. And their little TV hypnotized brains totally understood the concept of rating.

Monday, March 22, 2010 8:58:00 AM  
Anonymous persewaan said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

Saturday, May 01, 2010 12:18:00 AM  

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