I frequently get songs stuck in my head. And they're not songs that I listened to earlier in the day or yesterday. Or even last week. It's been years since I've watched Sesame Street. Years. Yet that is what was stuck in my head the other night.
Ever since I can remember, my oldest daughter has been a music lover. I can always find out the rest of the words of a song if I sing just a few words. I don't say anything like, "Yo, girlfriend, what's the rest of this song that's stuck in my head?" I just say, "...with no handle bars...with no handle bars..." and magically the rest of the words come out of her mouth. It's like you pushed a button & the player won't stop till the entire song is out. She is no longer in charge of her own mouth; the song has taken over. Together we make one awesome a cappella soloist; I start the song, she completes it.
When she was a toddler, she would sing all day long. She would tell us her head was full of songs & she just had to let them out. She's only 17 months older than her younger brother & when they were little she would sing him to sleep from her crib. In the car, he would reach his chubby little hand out of his carseat towards her & she would hold it & sing to him. Aww, they were cute once.
Sometimes I'll start humming a song just to mess with her. 'Cause once she hears the tune, she can't not sing it. I'll just walk past her & hum the tune of a song she hates & before she can stop it, she's singing the entire song. Afterwards I get a lovely little, "Thanks, Mom" complete with eye roll & sigh. No problem, sweetie, consider it repayment for the 3 months of colic you put me through.
The hubby man is now a part of my musical randomness, but in a different way. I like to just blurt out a few words of a song & he'll finish it. It's not uncommon for me to yell "Stop!" from the bathroom while I'm brushing my teeth. And since I'm brushing my teeth, it sounds like, "Schdop!" From the other room, you hear, "Collaborate & listen!"
I've walked into a room only to say, "regulators" to him. That's it. One word. And he immediately replies, "Mount up."
I have texted him things like, "Insane in the membrane" or "Miss new bootie" just randomly during the day. Never fails, I get back the next line. Who else could I do this to except for Mr. Eddi Girl? I mean, really, if I sent "I got a man" to anyone else, they'd be all, "Yeah, I know, thanks for rubbing it in." There's only one person in this world who would know to send me, "What's your man got to do with me?"
Cypress Hill, Tupac, Vanilla Ice, Salt 'N Pepa, Snoop...anything old school, baby. The kids love it so much that they can't even stand to be in the same room when we get going on lyrics. They are so overcome with delight at our knowledge of 90's music that it's like staring into the sun. They have to look (and walk) away. We're that good.
So the other night, as I'm playing solitaire on my phone & the hubs is "working" on the computer, I ask him, "Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?"
No answer. I'm thinking, wow, the boy really is working, he didn't even hear me. But no...he totally was pondering the question. Because I hear, very quietly...
"Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?" And then, "Um, no, I don't think they do give you directions to Sesame Street in that song." And then, "Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?"
Me: "That's the part that's stuck in my head. Did I just manage to embed it in your head too?"
Hubby: "Yup. Thanks a lot."
You're welcome, babe. Glad I could share.
It's no longer stuck in my head. Now I know how songs get stuck in heads in the first place. They travel. You will it into someone else's head, they're stuck with it, you're free. Until the hubs learns this, he will never be free & will be wondering how in the hell do you actually get to Sesame Street.
And I'll have moved onto: "Well, I guess it would be nice...if I could touch your body...I know not everybody...has a body like you..."