9/2/12 - Scroll to the bottom for our big news.
----------------------------------------------------At the beginning of the summer, my oldest kiddo turned 9 and decided she had her own taste in music and needed to educate me on what was cool. So far that has meant a lot of One Direction and Carly Rae Jepsen. I was cool with this, as I have an unnatural love for all things poopy and fun. DAMMIT. That was supposed to say "POPPY" as in POP MUSIC but it auto-corrected to say "poopy" as in poo, which should pretty much tell you everything you need to know about my life.
(Please take careful note of this whole POPPY for cool people/POOPY for me thing so you can enjoy some irony in a minute.)
So my daughter started listening to the radio in her room and quickly reached the stage of tweenerdom whereby she has memorized every lyric to every single song that is played on her favorite radio station (for those of you in DC, it's Hot 99.5). If a song is played on that station - she knows it. I had reservations about this but whatever, I actually like that station and listen to it in the Big White Ford Tampon all the time.
I also have vivid memories of smugly correcting my mother as she tried to sing along with me to "Against All Odds" in 1985. I also remember her being mildly horrified (but mostly amused) when I sang all the words to "I Know What Boys Like" by The Waitresses when I was the same age my daughter is now.
My husband disapproves of our oldest child rocking out in her room, citing the total inappropriateness of the songs on the radio these days. Please bear in mind that in my husband's brain, our daughters should wear pinafores and sing hymns. Also, a Pepsi costs a nickel and kids deliver newspapers wearing overalls. I think the inside of his brain is Mayberry.
On the other hand, I don't think it's a big deal if our kids listen to top 40, particularly when it results in unintentional hilariousness such as the now infamous Boobs Like Jagger incident. But then two things happened.
Thing One: Rapper Flo Rida demonstrated that he personally hates my guts because he released a single called "Whistle", obviously for the sole reason of GETTING ME IN TROUBLE WITH MY HUSBAND. The song came on the radio in the van and I'd never heard it before. And the volume was really loud because the last song before that was the Owl City/Carly Rae Jepsen song "Good Time" -- which is adorable. And then "Whistle" comes on. Just in case you didn't know - the song is about going downtown. And not on a bus. It is unambiguously about boypart sexytime.
Then Cap'n Coupon turned red and started sputtering out sentence fragments like: "Wha??? This is !! OBSCENE! Something should !? Does anyone else?! Tipper Gore!! I TOLD YOU, LYDIA!!"
Then things got slightly worse as my 9 year old daughter started singing along. Then the other kids joined in. They are 3 and 7.
After frantically hitting every button on the van's dashboard in a vain attempt to turn the radio off, I just hung my head and mentally braced myself for the momfail shitstorm that was about to come. Let's just say Hot 99.5 is now banned when Daddy is around.
Thing #2: This week, friends started calling and texting me that Hot 99.5 kept mentioning Rants from Mommyland on the air. I was like: "THAT IS AWESOME!! Wait. WAIT. OH MY GOD. HOW DID THEY FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED?! HOW DO THEY KNOW OF MY SHAME?!"
But they didn't even know about it! Somehow this blog got nominated for their so-called Hotty Awards. And I had nothing to do with it, people. I'm not even sure what a "Hotty Award" is except that if I'm nominated for one, then it has to be ironic. I mean, when Kate was here it would have made sense because she has long, blonde Texas hair and wears size extra tight, white pants and Jimmy Choos to the grocery store and hasn't eaten a carb since the late 90's. [EDITOR'S NOTE: Ahem. I eat carbs. I just save them for really, really special occasions. Like Impending Zombie Apocalypses. Because then I would need my energies. -Kate] I however, wear size extra saggy yoga pants with my clogs. I have special hair that gets done in the strip mall by the Walmart. I go weeks without wearing make-up and scare strangers when I try to wear shorts. By the way, when I just tried to type "carb", it auto-corrected to "crab". Sigh... That makes total sense.
SO ANYWAY, OF COURSE I SHOULD WIN THIS IRONIC HOTTY AWARD.
If you vote for me, I promise to stage an elaborate acceptance ceremony that may include (1) jeggings (2) PajamaJeans (3) tap dancing in actual tap shoes (4) crying (5) cleavage (6) Kate (7) an a capella version of "Whistle" (8) me high-fiving strangers in a t-shirt that says "YES I AM A HOTTY. THANK YOU FOR NOTICING"
Here's where you vote: The Hotty Awards
PS It'll definitely include #6. AND carbs. xoxo Kate
Haven't heard anything yet from the radio station but when we do, you'll be the first to know.
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