2 posts tagged “ainsley”
Ainsley likes rock music, she really does. We have not forced this on her any way -- not like that douchebag hipster alterna-dad Neal Pollack -- but she did go to hear her daddy's band play an early show at a taqueria (ah,those hungry Behind-The-Music days) and she just likes ROCK. Just like Dave Chappelle said, white people can't resist electric guitar.
So anyway, she likes rock music, and she heard a snippet of a Pixies song in the car, and now she just wants to listen to the Pixies all the time. Which is pretty cool -- except for the "bleep" factor in some of the songs (and some of the hidden tracks, for you who know your Surfer Rosa). Most of the songs are just dirty innuendo, which I like to think goes over my preschooler's head, and I'm usually totally on the ball and turn down the volume just for the questionable word or phrase, and then back up for the rest of the noisy guitars.
Just so, I was on the ball the other night, listening to "I've Been Tired" -- not so much a song as a rhythmic sing-song poem, and not so much filled with swears as filled with words I'd just as soon Ainsley not learn to sing along with. So I'm on the dial, ready to silence the radio ... but WHOOPS, I turn it the WRONG WAY! I make it SUPER LOUD for the dirty part, and then back down for the music. The effect is thus:
(For the record, it appears that Ainsley survived this incident without learning the lyrics. Whew.)
Tonight Eric went to celebrate his friend's birthday in Pleasanton, so Ainsley and I had a silly evening together -- we had breakfast for dinner, we went to the library REALLY REALLY late, we skipped bath and mixed up our usual nighttime routine. When it came time for stories, I let her pick out of the new batch of library books we had just brought home, which included these little gems:
And really, they are all lovely books. Unfortunately, they share a common theme: DUCK ABANDONMENT AND DUCK FEAR.
We started off with Ping, which actually came with a CD, so I just sat back and turned pages. All I remembered about it was liking it as a kid when all the ducks walked in a line. People! These ducks are beaten with a stick! Ping is separated from his family and captured to become DUCK DINNER! And, being a CD, I couldn't fake the words -- the brutal tale just unravelled before Ainsley's enormous eyes.
"Ping got lost," she whispered after it's all over.
"Yes, but he found his family and the wise-eyed boat [WTF?] and it all turned out so wonderfully for Ping. Aren't we HAPPY??"
Next up is Little Quack. Mama stays for all of this one, but each little duck needs to point out something terrifying about the night, which is preventing their sleep. This provided inspiration for my daughter, who is rehearsing for the touring production of Mommy, Just One More Song -- And Some Ice Water, Please: A Only-Child Revue of Bedtime Delays From Seven to Midnight. "Mommy, why is the night oh so dark?" Thanks, Little Quack, you damn duck.
Ah, but then: Come Along, Daisy. This book we know! This book we OWN. This book we have read a million times -- but not since the Imagination came. To summarize: Daisy wanders off and plays with a frog, and is All Alone. A big fish ripples the water, and she hears rustling in the reeds, which turns out to be -- her mama! Not scary, if you get to the end when Mama comes back -- and if you don't have a show-offy librarian mom that is just Such a Good Storyteller that she can't shut it off.
Now read this to yourself in a dark room in the scariest possible manner: "Something big stirred beneath her. Daisy shivered. She scrambled up onto the riverbank. Then something screeched in the sky above! Daisy hid in the reeds. If only Mama Duck were here! Something was rustling along the riverbank. Daisy could hear it getting closer... and closer, and closer, and CLOSER ..."
At this point Ainsley starts whimpering, "I don't like this, I don't like this!" Then my auto-pilot turns off and I realize how scary I just made this stupid bedtime book. What the hell is wrong with me?
"No, no, it's Mama Duck, look! They're together now!" But Ainsley is done. She marches out of bed and collects the three books and tells me, "You need to take these back to the libraray. They are Too Scary."
We stuck Owl Babies on the return pile, too, since the whole plot is three scared owls waiting for their mom, repeating "I want my mommy" over and over again.
Nice work, library mom.
