There is nothing more certain to set the Greek God(zilla) and I off on a bickering frenzy than when he touches my ipod.
Obviously, I do not mind if he merely touches it to look at and admire all the carefully crafted playlists I have created for any given situation, but there is nothing that gets me more cranky than when he changes track mid-song.
It drives me nuts and it is not just the Greek God(zilla) that does it, ALL men do, and it annoys me just as much then too.
I could be happily knocking up a cottage pie in the kitchen with mellow jazz playing in the background, or unloading the dishwasher to quote “easy listening middle of the road rubbish” unquote the Greek God(zilla), when he will bound in and abruptly change the track to ‘I don’t cricket, I love it!’ by 10cc on full volume. Or Pink Floyd, who I know are musical legends and all that, but some of their songs can be pretty depressing.
That said, I would much rather Zachy inherit the Greek Godzilla’s taste in music than mine. He likes what most people call ‘proper music’, where artists play actual instruments and perform songs they have written themselves. Live.
I don’t really ‘do’ gigs (too loud, too many people, too smelly) but they are wonderful for people who enjoy them and I really hope Zachy is more of a muso than his mother.
Fortunately, evidence of him sharing his father’s musical taste has been no more apparent than this week when he has insisted I play the following song to him in the car at least 5 times on full volume.
It makes him beam from ear to ear. He bops his little head to the music and he tries to sing along, even though it is instrumental.
Just like his father.
As soon as the song finishes he asks for “more song”. So, I play it again… and again and again and again until we reach his nursery.
There is only one thing that is concerning me. If Zachy is the Good (obviously) and the Greek God(zilla) is the Bad (obviously), then that must make me the Ugly…