The BEAT of Arizona

Something strange is going on with my kids, particularly #3.  They are into Hip Hop/Pop music.  How this happened, I'm not sure. All I know is that when we are in the car and everyone is going crazy, screaming, fighting, crying, uncontrollable emotions, the only thing that will create absolute peace is 92.7, The Beat.  The deep bass of Rihanna or the melodic syncopation of Mariah calms the waters the way Raffi, Susie Tallman or Sesame Street apparently can't.  Although it is empowering knowing that with the mere touch of a pre-programmed button I can bring harmony into our world, I'm a bit embarrassed and ashamed to be driving a dance club on wheels.  Spouse and I have always been on the outskirts of (and sometimes feeling superior to) the popular music scene. It humbles me every time to surrender to The Beat.

Is this a sign of things to come?  I have frightening visions of #3 wearing one of those awful, oversized trucker hats or #2 sporting a swirly tattoo.  

Trying to think positive here.  #3's got rhythm.  She can bounce with the best of them.  She is currently perfecting her signature move.  Arm raised high, fist pounding the air to the beat, (think Usher, "Yeah, Yeah").  I know, I know. She's only one.  But to have this much talent so early on... I might as well start shopping for one of those pantyhose caps, the ones with the little knot in the back.  I wonder if they make them in 24 months?

Possibly the worst thing about The Beat:  I try to resist.  I really do. But the power of The Beat is too strong, it sucks me in every time.  Thankfully #1 is more immune to the siren call and brings me back to reality, "Mom, stop dancing."