You know the type. The kids are bugging each other, and every little thing they do seems to end in a verbal smackdown. We were in the car when I reached boiling point, and so I did what I always do, which is clearly ineffective, but I'm apparently powerless to change. I lectured them.
KathyB!: Wah, waah, wah, wah, wah, waaaah... I don't know why I even bother. I swear, it's like I'm talking to myself.
The kids made the appropriate contrite faces and then lapsed into silence. I briefly contemplated pulling over and running screaming into the woods, but abandoned that idea when I realized we were a good 5 miles from home. Instead, I flipped on the radio hoping to divert the seemingly inevitable return to bickerdom. I succeeded in distracting myself but apparently it didn't work for the kids because soon there was giggling in the back, and it wasn't the happy kind. It was the mischievous kind. And yes, there is a difference.
Visions of potty talk and inappropriate humor danced through my head, and I felt my irritation roar back like a freight train as I demanded to know what was going on back there.
KathyB!: Now what? Honestly, you guys don't start. It hasn't even been 5 minutes.
(more giggling except this time it's on the verge of hysterical)
KathyB!: What already?
Hannah: Promise you won't get mad?
Hannah: It's the song.
(now they're laughing like hyenas and I'm looking confused. It's Billy Idol for cryin' out loud, not Weird Al Yankovic)
Hannah: (suddenly breaks loudly into the chorus of the song)
We were listening to Dancing with Myself. They didn't get any of the other words but they were clear on changing the dancing to talking.
Seriously. It's like I was trapped in
a tin can my minivan with The Three Stooges.
I rolled my eyes.
And then I laughed. Maybe I should make that my theme song?
Here's a little Billy Idol video refresher if you don't remember the song