Tuesday 200 — #79

Once in a while my twins will sing something unfamiliar. I'm never sure if they've made it up, heard it at school, or downloaded it. We try to monitor their Internet, but when it comes to gadgets, I’ll freely admit they outsmart us.

This morning they were be-bopping an unnervingly catchy refrain about a "monkey in my back.”

What was more bothersome? Nine-year-olds singing about addiction or misusing a preposition?

“I believe the phrase is monkey on my back.” I topped up their organic freshly-squeezed OJ. “Jeremy, are you wearing your sister's eyeliner?”

“It’s okay Daddy,” Jessie said, “he asked to borrow it.”

Before I could say that wasn’t my particular concern, Jessie informed me the lyric was about evolution, clearly stating the monkey was *in*, not *on*, Polly’s back.

“Who’s Polly?”

“Du-uh. Polly Sectual.” Jessie looked at me like I’d grown a gorilla head. “The singer for Fierce Chimera? The tranny metal band? They’re totally owning Bangkok Idol. I sent you their Facebook last week?”

“Polly Sectual?”

“It’s a stage name,” Jeremy confided. “Chick-dick rock RAWKS!”

This prompted a high five from his sister.

“Honey!” I called upstairs. “Can you come to breakfast?”

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