Drive Slow, Homie

When Mark was two and Jake was seven months, I received “Late Registration” by Kanye West for my birthday, and although I mostly listen to a radio station best described as “oldies” – the kind that advertises for Grey Power Insurance and the benefits of getting your prostate checked – I really enjoy hip hop. I especially loved that album and I listened to it all the time in the car, with the kids. And – you can probably see where this is going – I didn’t at the time realize that the kids might be actually absorbing the information that was being presented in the music. I didn’t realize it until Mark – did I mention he was two? – informed me that he didn’t have no money, so he couldn’t get no ho’s. Nothing says you’re a good mother like having a two year old misogynist on your hands. Later, he told his grandmother that he wanted a prenup. At that point I put the album away, only to listen to it when the kids were not in the car.

In the past two days, there were over six hundred car accidents in the city! Six hundred! What could be going on, you may ask? What indeed but ten centimeters of snow. Apparently in this lovely city only one hour from the Rocky Mountains, in the Canadian prairies, snow is a new and novel concept. One that causes people to be in a perpetual bad mood and drive like lobotomized maniacs. As my yoga teacher said, “Snow is like death. We all know it’s coming, but for some reason when it arrives we are all still surprised and sad.” Yes, exactly.

So what does all this have to do with my wildly inappropriate musical choices? It’s my public service announcement for the day: DRIVE SLOW, HOMIE. Although you really do not need to “put your hazard lights on when you see them ho’s”. Really.