Islands in the Stream

The Husband loves to turn on some loud music on his laptop and jam out while he does things around the house. He really gets in a zone with his rock music whether he's working on projects with power tools or mopping the floor. So for years I've crept in when he wasn't looking and changed it to Islands in the Stream. Always Islands in the Stream. As you can imagine I find this hilarious and he does not. You have to have some things to keep your marriage fresh and interesting, after all.

Fast forward to present day. We have been exposing The Boy to a variety of music, and he's really soaking it up. He told me one day that his favorite song is Flight of the Bumblebees, which explains a lot. He'll choose a song and ask for it over and over, then perform various remixes for us. The Husband taught him about Two Kinds of Love from Rocky II and Queen's Flash, which he even sings the guitar intro to. I introduced him to Simon and Garfunkle and Johnny Cash, and maybe a little Taylor Swift. Imagine my delight when I got the idea to teach him Islands in the Stream! My hope was that he'd sing it all the time and drive The Husband crazy. It's like the prank that keeps on giving. So we practiced. And we watched YouTube clips. And we had kitchen dance parties. "And we wrely on each other. Uh huh. From one lover to another. Uh huh." Now that I'm typing it, I do note the inappropriateness of these lyrics, but stay with me.


Meanwhile, my six year old nephew sang "We will rock you" one time and the boy was hooked. Hooked. It was his instant fave, trumping anything we'd introduced. He sings it All. The. Time. He wants to hear it all the time. He experiments with voices and pitch and tempo and motions. Our house is like a full time Jock Jam CD that skips.


I get it. You don't have to like what I like. You're a free thinker, and I love that about you. You don't want to be a pawn in an elaborate scheme to prank your father, that's fine. But the other night at dinner....


Husband: ready to say the blessing?

Boy (solemnly bows head): God our father, God our father, we will, we will wrock you. We will, we will, wrock you. Amen.


He was serious. The Husband and I couldn't keep a straight face. Dear God, we will rock you. Amen. It was hilarious. It was inappropriate and irreverent. We laughed and laughed and nearly cried. The Boy looked at us, an expression of perplexity and curiosity and pride. We told him it was a great blessing, and it was. There's nothing like bringing your genuine self to God, complete with your naivety and your passions and your pride. And in that moment, without knowing it, and without meaning to, he won. Right in the middle of my planning and my pranking, I'd been Island in the Streamed. By a three year old and a six year old. The irony of these lyrics is not lost on me.


"Somebody better put you back into your place."


Here, for your listening pleasure, is one of the many We Will Rock You renditions. He's available for parties and mar mitzvahs. And blessings.

Halloween 2014

We kind of love Halloween. Exhibit A, our porch:

Also, we love dressing up. The Boy was officially Superman and Beyoyo was officially Batman on Halloween but we like to experiment with other options too: 

 kilts!

A highlight of our Halloween festivities was the fall festival at The Boy's school, which was a hit thanks to games like don't-drop-this-cup-of-popcorn-off-your-shoe

And pretend-you-don't-know-this-is-someone's-dad-tying-a-prize-to-a-fishing-pole. 

On the way to school that morning The Boy and I were guessing what some of his friends might dress up as. I foolishly guessed things like "a frog" and "batman." The Boy, however guessed that Henry would be dressed as a boot, and Violet Stone would be applesauce. We were both wrong. But oh well! The Boy is planning and looking forward to next year, since he already said he plans to trick or treat as......

a cracker. 

You Be The Judge

Last week The Boy and I went to see my friend at her work to get something notarized. She works in the local courthouse. While we were there, The Boy, who was in his pjs, mind you, announced that he needed to go poopoo. I looked at my friend. She pointed around the corner "just use that bathroom to the right" she said, casually, because she has kids and knows they need to poop. "Isn't that the judge's office?" I asked. 

"Yes, but he's not here. It's fine. I promise." Okay. We went through his office into the bathroom. The Boy was very curious about whose bathroom we were in. He asked me what a judge was. He got a little play city for his birthday complete with jail, so he's just learned what a jail is. My mom told him it was were bad guys go, but the therapist in me had to say it's where people who make bad choices go. Give a guy a chance, right? (#OITNB) 

So anyway, he asked what a judge was. I thought it was a little premature to explain the 3 branches of the government, so I just told him that the judge tells the police who to take to jail. "Is he the boss of the police?" he asked. "Yes." I said. His robe was hanging on the back of the door. I pointed to it and showed The Boy that the judge wears a robe like the one we saw. He was thoroughly impressed. "Can he talk?" he asked, as he sat on the pot. "Yes." Then, as if a robe-wearing-boss-of-the-police couldn't get any cooler, The Boy said in awe "Does he have a PENIS?!" "Yes", I said, trying not to laugh. 

That's all he needed to know. This guy is the boss of the police, wears a cape to work, talks, and has a penis. I think The Boy has found his dream job.