As I was driving home yesterday with a steaming hot venti hazelnut non-fat latte, kids fast asleep in their car seats, I had the luxury of listening to MY music.  Sometimes I just don’t want to listen to Barbie movies playing behind me, brainwashing my kid, insisting that she needs a Barbie Mariposa doll – since when does a kid say she specifically needs Barbie Mariposa?  The word mariposa should only be part of a Spanish speaking kid’s vernacular… I digress… but just for the record those Barbie movies are pretty creepy all digital and weird. ..Why can’t they be more like Jem?  Jem WAS truly outrageous!

So… I was drinking coffee, listening to music on random which definitely has a plus/minus effect – every once in a while you get a great song, but 9 times out of ten you don’t feel like the song that randomly pops up so you have to skip to the next one, then the next one, then the next one, then the next one, until one like this comes along and your flooded with memories…

…and it then your brain starts thinking about songs and people and places. Being young and thin and free (in a good way) and old boyfriends and stupid stuff you did and said, and how I can’t listen to Adam Ant’s ‘Wonderful’ because it reminds me a sloppy kiss on a bus – don’t ask, or SoulDecision’s ‘Faded’ and five male strippers – ok ask about THAT one!

… I’m also wondering whether I have better taste in music than that… at least those are the tainted ones…

Then I started thinking about baby names – no not pregnant…yet – and how they, like music, get tainted.

The process usually begins with me shouting out names to the hubby, followed by a no, and a story recounting why it needs to be vetoed from the list. He would then suggest a name and I would veto it – because it was stupid.  But one time he shouted out a name (deleted for discretionary purposes), and instantly I was reminded of a girl who peed her pants in grade 1.

I can now appreciate the horror and embarrassment that poor girl must have felt – especially while dealing with my own kids toilet issues. But I still think of her. Her mother probably told her no one would remember, but here I am as a testament to that statement – twenty  – okay, twenty three years later. I still remember the day you peed in class…

Wow, speaking of memories – I totally just remembered having peed my own pants at Johanna Taddies birthday party. I was wearing a green felt one piece jumper (yes, i just used the words green AND felt in the same sentence and i was not talking about Christmas). It had a rope belt around the waist and my mother tied a double knot in it – who I specifically told not to tie a knot! Grosser still, I managed to hide the fact I peed for the remainder of the party – I didn’t want be the girl blogged about twenty three years later.

… What was this post about again?… right, music… long story short, this song is super, enjoy it with a venti hazelnut non-fat latte

Note to self

* mom brain is very scattery

PS. title of this blog post is a very funny book joke

Note to self #2

*yes, i know, i’m a dork

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