So, my attempts at teaching my daughters about actual, good music on the drive in to school have ended up as an abysmal failure. Bowie, Stones, Beatles. Simon and/or Garfunkel. They yield nothing but yawns. Kids these days.
Usually, trips to school end up like mini-raves (do they still do raves?) with the minor 7th chords and the dance-y rhythm. At stop lights, the car bops likes like a 3.2 earthquake. Other drivers nod, knowing my pain.
Apparently. there’s someone called Krewella. A singing sister duo. But, they turn the word “Time” into a multi-syllabic monstrosity. Tiii-eeem.
I point this out every time (tii-eem) it appears on the playlist. And, I am yelled at for correcting her (them… whatever).
When my daughters complain about my bitching, I mention that Adele doesn’t call from the Outsi-eed. Because she actually understands the English language, And, she’s actually English.
Girls: Tii-eem. That’s how Krewella sings it.
Me: Well, it’s wrong. I don’t care. It’s a one syllable word. Time.
Girls: I hate you! You are ruining our life!
Me: “Lives.” Because, there are two of you. So, plural…
Sometimes, when you’re a dad, you do what you can…