Music

Somewhere along the line my children have grown out of nursery rhymes.
From the backseat, and unbeknown to me, they’ve been taking in the tunes and lyrics of the songs belting out over the car stereo and, it turns out, they each have their favourite.

Jayla’s is the classic kiwi Maori club song Poi E, Cade’s is a song from the 90s he discovered on one of my old homie cds Jump Around but Jai prefers the slower Better Be Home Soon  by Crowded House.

He takes it very seriously, his singing.

“Mum, let’s put on number 9 for Jai,” Cade will say from next to me in the front seat with a gleam in his eye.

We both adjust our mirrors to watch.

“Somewhere deep inside, something’s got a hold on you,” Jai sings looking straight back at us with prolonged blinks while nodding his head in all seriousness.

Cade and I exchange smirks.

“And I know I’m riiiiiiight, for the first time in my life,” he croons.

“It’s funny hearing him sing about his life,” hubby commented once after yet another rendition. “He’s all of three.”

I must say, they have good taste. Admittedly all the music is mine and the Jump Around one’s a bit embarrassing, especially when Master Five insists on rolling down the window at the lights and turning up the volume.

Apparently he did this to his father, much to his horror.

“We were going through Cameron St Mall and someone opened their window and turned up the music really loud,” he reported when they returned.

Why is he telling me this? I wondered. Teenagers do that all the time.

Then I realised he was talking about our son.

Cade knows all the song’s numbers off by heart so I have my own personal dj on tap, the trouble is, I’m getting a tad sick of my own music.

One of my New Year’s resolutions is to get with the times and buy an ipod because the kids have handled and thrashed the cds so much they now all skip.

“Sorry, we can’t play Jump Around anymore,” I told Cade with some relief. “You guys played it too much and now it’s broken. You’ll have to come up with another favourite.”

“Mum, play the ‘Yes’ song!” shouted Jai from the back seat.

Yes song?

Cade and I went through our list of favourites until I got it.

“Jets! Bennie and the Jets Jai?”

“Yeah, your favourite,” he nodded enthusiastically.

Elton’s keyboard began belting out the opening bars.

Away they all sung, not having a clue what any of the words were, bar the chorus.

“Bennie and the Jetssssssssssssssss,” they harmonised all the way home.

I’m really going to have to get that ipod because Benny and the Jets is now fast approaching the same fate as its peers.