The fruit of my womb

I love Duran Duran. Ever since I was 10 years old and Seven and the Ragged Tiger was out. The Reflex was the first song I ever heard and man, was I hooked. To this day I still have all of my albums, 45s, and a really old scrapbook barely holding on to the tattered interviews and posters from Tiger Beat and BOP magazine.

So, it is only natural that when their new album dropped in November, I would get it. And listen to it. In the house, in the car. And since my children are always with me, they listen to it too. I have to admit, I love it. My children picking up on Mom's musical tastes--who wouldn't love that? But that seems to have backfired a little bit. My children have an intense admiration for the title track of the album, Red Carpet Massacre. At first, I enjoyed playing it and watching them dance along. It was really cute when the girl started singing the lyrics with that sweet two year old tone to her voice. It was awesome when the boy would pump his fist in the air like a little Simon LeBon. The problem is--it is the only song they want to listen too. When the next track comes on, all I hear is "ed asser!" coming at me from the once innocent babe behind me. If I do manage to get through another song on the album, the boy will start asking the girl, "You want to hear Red Carpet Massacre, right?" and with his prodding, eventually there will be a chant of sorts hurdling towards me. "Moe ed asser!" the girl demands. Since I won't be able to listen to any other tracks in peace, I relent. Good thing I like that song!