Driving with Tiny is like being held hostage by a minuscule K-pop terrorist. Coming home from a medical appointment in Rochester this evening, I got:
“P-Pop Mama. P-Pop.”
I really don’t like K-Pop so I tried a variety of music on her. Kendrick Lamar?
“P-Pop Mama. P-Pop.”
Kids favorites like The Wheels on the Bus?
“P-Pop Mama. P-Pop.”
We settled on Cardi B for a little while but then it started again, more insistently:
“P-POP MAMA. P-POP.”
Siiiiiiigh.
Ani Difranco?
“P-POP MAMA. P-POP. P-POP!!”
Siiiiiiiiiiiigh.
There’s no negotiating in this hostage situation. K-Pop it is. Only the girl bands. And only select songs. Again and again and again.
The kid’s got some major staying power, I’ll give her that. And lungs!
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