Don't touch that dial- seriously, don't touch it.

Zack and Dani learned an important lesson on Thursday. Lesson learned...don't repeatedly bug mom about the radio staion/cd player/volume/etc. And whatever you do, DO NOT- I repeat, DO NOT change the station or CD just as mom is getting into the car simply because you were in the car before her. This is especially important to remember if you have been bothering mom about all things "car stereo" related for the past few hours (or days, weeks, or months).

To any other children reading this: I write this merely as a warning. If you do not learn this lesson well, you may suffer the same awful fate as Zack and Dani did.

For the last little while, it seems every time I get into the car with Dani or Zack, they immediately start bugging me about what is coming through the speakers. Many times, before I am even in my seat with the door closed. It's not that I listen to music my kids hate all the time, it's just that it's not the very first thing on my mind when I get in the car. And quite often, I get bothered about the music at very inconvenient times. You know, like when I'm DRIVING. I realize music is important. I love music. Many styles and varieties of music. However, when I'm driving with three kids in the car, turning a corner on the wet road, with the sun in my eyes, or whatever else it is- What is on the radio is not my main concern. Driving without any distractions seems like a far off day dream. So, adding one more thing just kind of irritates me.

My children's insistance on this topic has been wearing on my nerves (just in case you didn't catch that from the tone of this post ;>). Thursday was even more irritating to me than usual. Every time I went to get in the car, I heard "Mom can we listen to ____," or "I want to change it to _____."

Zack got a warning- he was being rather insistent about the music and trying to change whatever I had on, so I said, "Okay, I'll change it." Then I changed it to the public radio station, which happened to be playing classical music. Zack cringed. Repeatedly. I smiled. Repeatedly. Dani said she liked it (maybe she did or maybe she was trying to annoy Zack). Then I asked Zack if he liked what we were listening to before. "Yes mom, PLEASE, change it back!"

"I'll change it back, but if you bug me about the music again, I'll change it back to this station."

Fair warning, right?

Well, we ran our next errand, get back in the car. The very second I put the keys in the ignition, Zack reaches over and, without asking or hesitating, changes the CD.

I give him "the look".

His eyes get big. He begins to cringe as I reach for the radio dial. "No, mom- don't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I warned you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I just changed it back, please don't mom."

I hit the radio button. The "music" begins. I use the term music loosely here- there was a special on fascinatin' rhythms of the 30's or something like that. The first song was sung by a man with a low voice telling the story of how he went to prison and now his son has a new daddy. It was weird and very depressing. The next song was...strange. It started with a younger girl (who really couldn't sing at all) telling about her dad who is a hobo and her mother who isn't a good mom. Then the mom and dad join in the "song" telling their daughter she should see a psychiatrist. About 2/3 of the song consists of these three discussing who should see a psychiatrist, who will pay for it, when they should go and for how long.

I was not enjoying this at all, but I was making a point. Zack was of course, being dramatic- plugging his ears, pulling his hood over his ears and face- and so on and so forth. Then Dani asked if we could PLEASE change it. I kept it on the station until we got home. When we pulled in the driveway, I asked Zack, "So, when will you bug me about the radio next?"

"NEVER mom! Never!"

I walked to the house and smiled. Repeatedly.