A very sweet friend of mine recently made me a mix CD and we took it on our Pennsylvania road trip.
I don’t want to use her name because she may not want to reveal the fact that she included songs like “MMMbop” by the Hanson Brothers and “Mambo #5” by Lou Bega. (But if you live in my town, this person has been seen very recently in a sassy tennis outfit and to the best of my knowledge she did not even play tennis that day.)
On the car trip, our girls made us listen to this CD over and over again until a little bit of Monica, Erica and Rita had really suppressed my will to live.
But one of my favorite songs on the CD is by a Canadian singer named Carly Rae Jepsen. (Just a warning… It’s very catchy and you will likely be singing it the rest of the day if you watch this video. Plus maybe dreaming of a guy with tattoos and abs like a washboard. If that’s your thing.)
My girls (who have never seen that video) have created a whole dance routine to “Call Me Maybe.”
But in the car, after our 47th time listening to the song, my husband said…
“I don’t like those lyrics.”
“Why Tipper? She’s just singing, ‘I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s my number, so call me maybe.’ I don’t think it’s so bad. Seems innocent enough.”
“I don’t know. It just seems a little inappropriate,” my husband said.
“Didn’t you have the girls listening to Billy Joel’s ‘Only the Good Die Young’ a few days ago? You’d rather our 5 and 7 year old be singing about death?!”
“That song is not about death. It’s about losing your virginity,” he countered.
“Oh you’re right. That’s much better.”