So, one day, the radio is on and the kids are in the back seat. A great song comes on and I crank it up, because I’m a car singer. My palm bounces off the steering wheel in syncopation to the drum/bass combination. I get lost in the guitar riff and when the chorus arrives, I panic. It’s split second decision time and I fumble for the volume and the fade knob at the same time. I lower the volume of the song emanating from the speakers and from my mouth.
Why? Well, it’s Kings of Leon singing “Sex on Fire”. We haven’t had the birds and bees discussion yet and I don’t think the car is the best place for it to happen. My imagination gets over excited from it’s recent 20 ounce latte and takes over right away with near perfect accuracy about what might happen if we drove down that path…..
Fire engines, ambulances and squad cars engage in dueling horn signals to reach the scene of the five car accident along North Clybourn Avenue first. People stare at me, the shaking thirty-something mother of two children,( one of which is asking questions in rapid machine-gun fire), trying to determine if I am the cause of the accident. Crowds of people gather as the officer asks how the accident occurred. I fumble over my words , trying to explain my explanation about things that happen behind closed doors between consenting adults while my talkative child interrupts me to ask, “You do that?” The look on the officer’s face is a mixture between surprise, choked back laughter and sympathy. Onlookers, gape and gasp. The child continues to connect the neurons in his brain cells. I stand frozen, mortified, as a news camera microphone is thrust into my face…..
In a split second, I have avoided embarrassment and potential damage to my car, not to mention my reputation. For now, I will use the avoidance and tiny white lie strategy. Should the children ask what they are saying in the song (which they have been known to do), I’ll lie and tell them, your socks are on fire. But I suppose that if I go down that path, I will have to change the lyrics to many other songs that they might hear. U2 will be singing about socks and boots (“Sexy Boots”), George Michael will be singing about wanting someone elses socks ( “I Want Your Sex”,) Pink Floyd will be singing about a woman who needs to take a bath, (“Dirty Woman”) and Marcy Playground will be singing about the great combination of socks and candy (“Sex and Candy”).
At some point, it will be time to have “the talk” with my kids. And at some point I’ll have to explain what some musicians are really singing about. I would hate for them to grow to adulthood, only to find out that they have been singing the wrong lyrics the entire time. Do you how embarrassing it is to learn that it is NOT “The Sultans of Suede”?
Maybe I should have let them listen to the kids music.