Sunday, January 9, 2011
snowed, and parenting FAIL
Well, it snowed.
You'd think this would be a moot point, up here in the wilds of Eastern Canada. You'd think we'd be inundated with the white stuff - but not this season, not so far. As a matter of fact, the latest storm that blew through last night skipped, hopped and jumped all over the province - the town thirty clicks away got snowed in (and hard) and the town the other way was socked in too - and we had enough to make a portly snowman and to skid down the sledding-hill a bit, and not much more.
But a great day for rosy-cheeks and cocoa, for snuggling on the couch and reading books while the coats and mitts steamed themselves slowly dry.
Cass was nonchalant. "Hey, Mom? What's texting on fire?"
The punchline to a joke I don't know? Is that a commercial you saw?
(In my head, I was trying to picture the ad campaign. 'Our rates are so fast - it's like you're texting on fire! Poof! [Sirens sound.])
He rolled his eyes. (Hmph. So blase at nine.)
"Nooooo, Mom. It's a song. On my ipod."
Oh! A song! Well, I'm not sure what that could be. Bring it here and I'll tell you.
And, of course, while he was off getting his music player, I realized that I downloaded all the songs onto his ipod and wait....what? That song wasn't supposed to be on there!
It was, of course, King Of Leon's 'Sex On Fire'. Which is now known around these parts as Your Text Is on Fire.
He's pretty impressed that anyone could move their fingers that fast.
Moral of the story: Don't EVER think you can just put all your 'club' (read hoochie-dance mama) songs on a playlist to get them out of the main section. Well, actually, that part works, but when you take the fast route and download your main playlist onto your son's ipod? Download = every.single.playlist you've ever made, all your audiobooks, your podcasts, everything.
Thank God I don't listen to porn.