Case in point...
Last week, I was driving to school, and the radio was playing all awesome 80s songs....
You know...like "Some Like It Hot" by The Power Station.
It has that awesome hand clapping part. So there I was driving down the road, clapping with the clap solos. I totally rock that part. Like I could be the hand clapper in a professional band. Really.
The Kid started freaking out. "MOM!!! You're gonna kill us in a fiery auto crash. Seriously. Hands on the wheel! Just drive!"
I was fine...my knee totally had the steering wheel. "Chill, child. My knee is in control. We're totally safe!"
"Mom! I'm serious. That is not safe."
I relented to my little parental unit and put one hand on the wheel.
"BOTH MOM! That's not okay!"
"Fine!"
Geez....who's the parent? Doesn't she realize this song was awesome and that I had to time my claps *just right* in order for them to sound like the song. It was an art.
To sing, clap, drive, and harass my kid? That's a quadruple threat right there.
The next song was Foreigner's "Feels Like the First Time." Yet another awesome song. It's like the DJ knew I was going to need to be pumped up for the last week of school.
Oh yeah. Immediately my hands started dancing. I did The Wave and The Robot. Yes, it's not really a Robot kind of song, but The Kid was freaking out enough, that I couldn't resist showing off my awesome moves.
Oh, and singing it at the top of my lungs.
Good. Times. She'll probably need therapy later.
"MOTHER! I just told you! Both hands on the wheel. Ten and two. It's not funny! Seriously. Stop laughing. Not one finger like that either, MOM. All five fingers. Of BOTH hands."
"I've got this," I said laughing. "I'm not going to risk our lives! I am totally in control of this vehicle. I'm not even messing around when there is a car coming if you notice."
"MOM. I'm not joking. You are not setting a good example. STOP. Seriously. Will you just drive? Gah, you're so embarrassing."
"Ummmm... there's no one here to hear me or see me. If it bothers you this badly, I'll stop......maybe."
But the DJ gods were against me.
They played "Footloose" next.
Now years ago, when the original movie came out, I spent hours trying to learn how to do my feet just like during the title sequence.
I couldn't let those hours of practice go to waste.
My only sadness was I didn't have on Converse.
Pity.
I did the best I could in black patent leather heels.
"Are you kidding me, MOTHER? Stop. I command you. Hands on the wheel. All five fingers. Feet on the pedals. Quit laughing too, mom. It's not that funny and you're freaking me out. Do you know EVERY song on the radio?"
When did my 12 year old turn into an 80 year old constipated woman who couldn't find her prunes?
About that time, I pulled into the school parking lot, late for work.
Right in front of the school principal.
Busted.
"We're late, mom. You know, we would have been on time if you hadn't been trying to dance and had been driving right. You need to go explain to the principal why you are late!"
"Because 'Footloose' was on the radio? And you are grumpy and act like an old lady and wouldn't let me dance all the way through because you don't like me to have fun? That reason?"
"MOM!"
"I'm just saying."
"MOTHER!"
"Fine, I'll tell him."
And I did.
No comments:
Post a Comment