Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Thursday, May 13, 2010 March Madness
Trash will often ask me, "You want to know what song's in my head right now?" I don't know why, but I always used to say yes. Then she'd tell me, usually by singing the part that was running through her brain whether she knew the whole thing or not, and then it'd by in my head. Which was of course exactly her intention. This wouldn't be so bad, except for how the song in her head on these occasions is always absolute dreck, dross, doggerel, or all three. This is not to say that she has bad taste in music. Quite the contrary. She hates the songs she dumps into my frontal lobe as much as I do. When she has a good song in her head, she keeps it to herself.
At least that's what I have to believe. I can't accept that I actually married someone who likes "Midnight at the Oasis."
By the time I realized I could say, "No, I don't want to know what song's in your head," it had somehow stopped being a yes or no question, if it ever had been, because she sings it to me anyway. Which I guess makes it a yes or NO LA LA LA LA LA LA question.
Now, a certain other of the family is also prone to having music in his head, but hasn't yet learned that you don't have to sing it out loud when that happens. So he's been incessantly humming, singing, and in other ways interpreting "The Imperial March" music from The Empire Strikes Back so often and so long that we've started having to send John Williams royalty checks.
Back on Easter, we were visiting Feb and TeslaGrrl and their new baby, and ten minutes after we showed up. Feb heard what I never even hear any more in any real sense, which was M. Edium in the next room blaring, "Baaa, baaa, baaa, baa bapaah, baa bapaaa."
"That's awesome," he chuckled.
"Yeah, it is at first," I agreed.
I few weeks later, M. Edium and I were at the doctor's office, getting my allergies checked. He had to visit the loo, and I waited outside for what seemed like a long time. A grumpy-looking nurse was sterilizing the exam room across the hall, but she laughed when she heard, " Baaa, baaa, baaa, baa bapaah, baa bapaaa" coming through the closed door. "A little Star Wars, huh?" she remarked to me.
"It never stops," I said.
And it hasn't. In fact, he has branched out into other media. He's made me pick out the first phrase of the melody on the piano, just for starters. He's begun experimenting with tapping out the rhythm on and with random objects, like a branch on the metal railing of our front stoop:
Clang, clang, clang, clang c-clang, clang c-clang…
But I think the apex of this is when he started kissing it on his mom's cheek:
smack, smack, smack, smack sm-smack, smack sm-smack…
Sometimes it gets too much for Trash, and she begs him to hum something else, anything else. If she complains hard enough, he'll switch briefly to the Main Title Theme ("daaaah, daaaah, dat-dat-dat-DAAAAH, daaah") or the Rebel Fanfare (dadaaah dat, dadaaaah dat, dadaaah, dah dadadat-daaah") before switching right back and giving her an aneurysm.
To be honest, I don't even hear the humming any more. It's just background noise. All I really hear is Trash's protests.
They sound like karma. posted by M. Giant 9:01 PM 6 comments
This just cracked me up, because it's been stuck in my head for weeks. For some reason, I have started brushing my 3 year old's teeth to the Imperial March music -- when he has to open wide, I sing it with "ahs," when I need to do his front teeth, I sing it with "eees." Now he's started singing it everywhere. While his 6 year old sister has seen and loves Stars Wars (I'm old school; none of this "A New Hope" crap), he hasn't, but is still a big fan of the Imperial March.
A nice breakfast treat for M.edium? http://www.williams-sonoma.com/products/star-wars-pancake-mold/
Touche! Revenge is yours - I now have The Imperial March firmly stuck in my head. That totally makes up for Lady Gaga and Bad Romance.
Heather - you will sooooooo regret that request. I HAVE YOUR PHONE NUMBER!!!
I'm not scared! Bring it on! 'Cause I have YOUR phone number *and* a child who will gladly sing a medley of Eye of the Tiger, Who Let the Dogs Out? and the Veggietales' Pirates Who Don't Do Anything for hours. At top volume, so no cackling "but I'm deaf in one ear so nanny-nanny-boo-boo to you!" either.
Uh-oh. My 3 year old little boy has taken to singing Imperial March all of the time, and even adding words, and I've been loving it. I have a feeling I will be in your shoes in a few years....