Given how much we play music around the house, it makes sense that the kids would love it too.
It’s also to be expected, I suppose, that my wife would burn CDs for their kids, discs filled with all their favorite songs, both from the music classes she teaches and from the movies they love: everything from Disney to reggae to classic rock. After all, their tastes are every bit as eclectic as mine.
But having “We Will Rock You” blast us out of bed at 5am?
That one I didn’t see coming.
The monitor in our room, you see, is tuned so that my wife can hear the kids breath as they sleep. When our oldest cranked his CD player up to its maximum volume and pressed play, what they heard in their room was only a fraction of what we had rocking us.
As amusing as this may all sound, I’m feeling more than a little grumpy about it. I mean, the kid’s only seven. Isn’t it too early to have the “turn that noise down” battle? What will we fight about when he’s 12?
Don’t answer that.
No, really. I don’t want to know.