I don’t care if they are listening to Danielle Rose or Andrea Bocelli. If I’m calling my daughters, and they don’t answer, I’m not happy.
When I was a kid, I was no better of course. I would hide in my room with my little radio listening to my music as loud as it would go. My mother was one smart lady, and would only let me have a radio so small it could never really get loud enough to bother anyone anyway.
But then, I didn’t have an iPod.
When my mom called me, you bet I heard her. If I didn’t hear her, the pain to my backside would be so severe that you bet I would hear her next time. Oh no, I made sure to answer when my mother called.
But my kids? They have iPods, and even I have to admit, they probably really actually didn’t hear me.
Oh man does that tick me off.
Now right from the start I should say that I don’t think iPods are a bad idea. My kids will listen to theirs every chance they get, whether walking the dog, or doing chores, and this is a great thing. I know how much they love their music, I most certainly enjoy mine, but the great part is, I don’t have to listen to it.
This is good!
It’s not that they choose bad music that I don’t want to listen to, oh no, quite the opposite. My kids have great taste in music, they do after all, get it from me. They like the oldies, they like jazz. They like bluegrass, a bit of opera, and they just love religious music like Danielle Rose. Most of the time, it’s like they have a Catholic mp3 player. I’m all for it. I love to listen to that stuff too, and when in the car, we will all rock out together like any raging fan at a rock concert.
No, the real problem is one of repetition. They like to hear the same songs over and over again. When I say over and over again, I mean like 20 times in a row.
Once? Great, that’s awesome. Twice? sure, if you like it that much. At twenty, my brain goes numb.
Well, I like my brain, so letting them listen to the same thing over and over on their iPods works great for me. They get their music, and I don’t have to listen to it. Great deal all around.
I am however, not fond of walking around the house yelling out their names, only to find they are sitting on the couch reading a book.
Yesterday, I was looking for my eldest. I had walked in every room in the house and yelled out her name.
Walked around outside yelling.
Oh man, am I getting pissed. Where the heck did she go? Did she dare take the dog for a walk without letting me know? Did she get kidnapped from the back yard? I of course ask the only one who really should know, my other daughter, and she too is lost in confusion.
I finally decided to carefully walk through every room in the house, and there, in the last place I expected to find her, she finally appears. She was in the other daughter’s room. Yes, it had gotten too messy, and she wanted to surprise her by cleaning it up a bit when she wasn’t looking.
Dangit, now I don’t even get the satisfaction of getting mad at her.