Elvie made her triumphant return to physical therapy today. As usual, she was resistant to doing anything the therapist wanted her to do, except when the therapist started singing Single Ladies while bouncing Elvie on the exercise ball. Elvie has a thing for Single Ladies, and when I say "a thing," I mean that when she woke me up at 7:30am, the first thing she did was start singing "Oo-oo-OO-oo-oo-OO-OO!" and doing some of the arm motions from the video.
The therapist first asked what Elvie's favorite songs were, suggesting things like Twinkle, Twinkle and Wheels on the Bus. I said, "Um...well...she doesn't really listen to many of those. Right now she really likes...Beyonce?" Later I had to admit that she also enjoys Macklemore and Bruno Mars. I really don't know what to do with myself, but I have no interest in suddenly taking up singing The Farmer in the Dell.
Sometimes I look at the childhood we are creating for our children and I wonder if they will feel that we robbed them of some essential childhood experiences, particularly when it comes to what they listen to and watch. And I really don't know. But I'm not concerned enough about it to invest in a playlist of tinny children's music that will rob my house of peace and my soul of joy.
I think we'll just keep cranking up the Macklemore and hope for the best.