I sing to Kaya. You will never get me to sing Karaoke and besides Oh Canada in an arena with at least 5000 other people singing, you will never get me to sing to you. But oh do I sing to my daughter!
Janet Jackson was performing “Nasty” on some talk show I caught while flipping by. For 2 weeks it was stuck in my head, replaying itself over and over and over. For obvious reasons, I began with every poopy diaper change. “Nasty, Nasty Boys, don’t mean a thing. Doo doo doodadoodoodooo, all them Nasty Boys.”
Another favourite, for the pre-poop ambiance this time, “Push It, Pah-Push it real good!” by Salt n Pepa.
Others that I’ve noted in my head in the past couple of weeks:
Should I stay or Should I Go- the Clash
Here Comes the Rain Again- Eurythmics
Karma Chameleon- Culture Club
Billie Jean- Michael Jackson
Don’t Worry, Be Happy- Bobby McFerrin
Lil Miss Can’t be Wrong- Spin Doctors
She Drives me Crazy- Fine Young Cannibals
What can I say? The top songs of the day bare no relevance to my life. Sadly, I am most definately not bringing Sexy Back. Nor am I a Maneater (cheeseburger eater-yes). Smack That goes against my child rearing beliefs and I have zero interest in being Fergalicious (Seriously? Fergalicious? Am I old or is this pointedly lame?)