Is Ke$ha turning me into a prude?
I will admit that I haven’t really given Ke$ha’s Animal a fair listen. I’ve been known to pause for her songs on the radio, or request her singles when Dan’s DJing car rides with his iPod. They’re fun, poppy dance tunes–or are they?
My Brownie troop is made up of seven- and eight-year-old girls. I’d say a handful of them have fairly involved parents who actively monitor what’s going on in their daughters’ lives and the rest have parents who are trying their best but virtually clueless. One of the girls was singing “TiK ToK” at our meeting this past week, confusing some of the girls who don’t know what a Ke$ha is. Two tables of girls were arguing back and forth as to whether it’s “key-sha” or “keh-sha.” I was already at my wit’s end because they were sewing bean bags to earn a Try-It.
I bought myself a huge Shamrock Shake as a reward for surviving that night, but since then I’ve also been fuming over the very fact that I had to stop an eight-year-old from yelling/singing about brushing her teeth with a bottle of Jack.
