So almost three and a half (weep!) seems to be the magic number for shushing me in the car. I am now no longer able to gleefully singalong to the fantastic mixed cd’s that I have made for W.

I have tried just bulldozing my way through singing along (because I love nothing more than setting a great example of how to be an upstanding citizen), but when I raise my voice to join the chorus of a Queen song I am met with W screaming, “NO!! Mama! NOOOOO SINGING!!!!”

Then there is a stare down in the rearview mirror at a red light. His eyebrows raise and then he belts, “weeeeee are the champions, my friend.”


Because I am annoyed with him I decided to record him singing the last bit of Ice Ice Baby this morning. I figured I could privately tease him about it once he has learned about irony and how fantastic it is that a beautiful boy that was once a frozen embryo loves ice. Enjoy.

Are you allowed to sing in your car?

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