I have really begun to question my musical taste over the past few days. Now that he has morphed into a teenager in a toddler’s body, Carson has decided that he is far too cool for his kid CDs. He somehow came across a huge case of my old CDs that had not been touched in years and has systematically worked through the pages, requesting a different CD each bedtime. In the past week, he has dozed off to Dave Matthews Band, Dixie Chicks, and Kenny Chesney. Hopefully he won’t start singing about having another beer in Mexico anytime soon.
Those are only the CDs I okayed him to listen to, though. I had to lay down the law and say “no” to him listening to Jay-Z and Nelly. Go ahead and laugh. When I told my coworkers this story, they just about died laughing at the fact that I- Miss Straightedge Prepster herself- would ever have such CDs in her collection. When I was in high school, I think I must have gone through a major identity crisis. I went through a phase during which the bass on my Explorer was turned all the way up, the volume was turned even louder, and my music of choice was rap. But like all of the good youth group kids, I would only purchase the edited versions. And sometimes even listened to Christian rap. Now that’s some funny stuff.
In the name of music appreciation, I did turn on the old Will Smith CD for Carson yesterday, and he hated it. How one could hate Will Smith, I do not know. But for now, I’m going to be attempting to redirect my two year old back into the world of Veggietales and Disney songs.