The Morning Drive

Well, it happened.

After years of being musically influenced by me and by Jeff (honestly, Jeff much more so than me), Gracen has exerted her own musical preference.

I hope that it is a “just for now” kind of thing.

The boy singer with the slanty haircut has come into my home via the earbuds of my 12 year old.

I realize that whoever invented the earbud thought that they were doing the parents of the world a huge favor. Your kid can hear their own music and you are spared the noise.

Not.in.my.world.

Every morning, the drive to school is punctuated with the totally memorized tunes of Baby, Baby and Never Say Never.

The fact that she has the earbuds in simply means that she has to sing louder to hear herself. So, by default I now know most of the songs—especially the rap-esque parts because that's a particular favorite of my back seat resident.

Did I hear the morning news? Nope.

Did I hear the contest for the freebie this morning? Not a chance.

(I'm particularly partial to radio call in contests because one played a part in how Jeff and I met!)

Do I hear the 80's station that I really like? Not most mornings.

I do take some consolation in the fact that her musical tastes are still pretty varied. The Beatles, some bluegrass, some country, some hymns, and some classical music still occupy valuable iPod space.

Her selections are still carefully monitored by the musical nerdbrain that is my husband. He teaches her not only about the music but also about the ideas that are conveyed and why it all matters.

I am officially the mother of a pre-teen.

And I am officially reminding myself that the days of driving her to school and hearing that voice in the back seat are truly very few.

I intend to enjoy it all—even if it does include some of the slanty haired boy.