A recent source of laughter in my home is my Lil Guy's love of music. He's 4 months old, and he is already a clown. I never expected that there would be ramifications for Bubby singing "I'm Gonna Hire a Wino" to my giant pregnant belly, but I was wrong. My Lil Guy has developed a love for old cheesey country music. He gets so excited. He bobs his head first, then he starts kicking his feet like a wild man. If you hold him so he can stand, he even shakes his booty. Needless to say, Slacker Radio is his friend. He is apparently a connoisseur of country moldy oldies. He seems to like Jerry Reed the best, of all things. We get high pitched squeals and laughter every single time he hears "When you're hot, you're hot", "Amos Moses", or "Eastbound and Down". Maybe I watched Smokey and the Bandit one too many times during pregnacy. He also likes Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard. He cries when "The Highwaymen" is over. Last night I discovered he also *loves* Patsy Cline, but who doesn't? He was jabbering away, like he was trying to sing along, and then he drooled on my Blackberry. I'm just wondering if there is some genetic link to someones taste in music, or if it really is because he was exposed to too much crap in utero! Either way, the poor kid is screwed. With Bubby's love of twangy southern gospel *gag*, I can just hope and pray it isn't inherited. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with songs of praise, but I prefer mine without the twang! If we notice the Lil Guy rocking out to Steve Miller then I know it's all my fault.
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Hair For Days
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