A couple of weeks ago she asked me for a “new rocket song,” and I sort of drew a blank because I don’t know the words to “Major Tom.” After 10 seconds of not particularly careful reflection I sang her “Afternoon Delight,” and now no one in the house can get it out of their heads. CJ walks around singing her own garbled version: “My mother always said, use your own night light….. Thinking of you’s working up my applesauce….”
I don’t feel as bad about this as I ought to. I mean, it’s not the most inappropriate song you can teach a three-year-old. I could have taught her Eric Clapton’s “Cocaine.”