No Stage Diving in the Kitchen

Posted by: , January 26, 2009 in 11:54 pm

Last night Ben and I flipped on the radio while I made dinner.  To my delight, Green Day was on…singing “Brain Stew.”  It turns out we were tuned in to the cheesy 90s rock station I used to listen to in the, well, nineties.  It seems they just stuck with that era of music.

So, we commenced jumping.  We were dancing, singing and jumping around like fools.  Happy as two larks.  Ben ran upstairs and got his guitar so he could join in with the next hit, a little something from Alice in Chains.  Nice.  I miss you, Layne.  Eventually, we found ourselves dancing to YIKES, Def Leppard and some band that was some unholy cross between Nickelback and Hinder.  Er, maybe it was Hinder?By the time Dad arrived for dinner, I had a side stitch so we changed the channel to a more contemporary, bubble gum pop collection of crappy songs.  Sans Hinder.  At first things were good.  All American Rejects was on and hey, he’s a cutie, right?

While we ate, things got bad.  We were treated to some song by Pink that was glaringly indistinguishable from all of her other hits. Oh, and then there was the sickeningly lame song by Avril Lavigne/Taylor Swift/Miley Cyrus.  I put the slashes in there because I honestly could not tell the difference—it could have been any of them. 

Ben and I listen to The Decemberists and Death Cab for Cutie during homeschool; making me listen to any one of the Pop Princesses listed above is simply wrong. 

After dinner Ben asked if we could go back to the “rock and roll, guitar station.”  Dad found it!  To my surprise, I heard sweet, sweet (pre-Gwen Stefani) Gavin Rossdale and his adorable British accent, singing “Everything Zen.”  Well…the jumping and shouting began again.  But, to my dismay, as I neared completion of the dish washing, there was a sudden outcry…

Ben was down!

Apparently those rubbery, skiddy thingys on the bottoms of his socks could not withstand such rock-and-roll craziness.  He landed face first on the kitchen floor and to quote my husband (from our post-bedtime conversation), “I thought for sure he’d come up with a bloody nose.”

Alas!  He did not.  Thankfully, his stage dive resulted only in an ugly bump on the forehead and this morning, a faint bruise.

Nonetheless, methinks we should consider some sort of rules and regulations for dancing in the kitchen.  Because…

Today, while I was making lunch, Ben was wailing on his guitar again…re-enacting the “Pete Townsend Rotating Arm Maneuver” his Daddy showed him last night and he somehow swiped the guitar past his face…resulting in another injury.

“My guitar hurt me!” he wailed.

Now as he lies in his bed, taking his nap with a Curious George band-aid slapped on his face, I am considering an overhaul of our kitchen music selection.  Maybe a little Neil Diamond is in order.


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