Music and books vie for being the most important things in my life, the things that make it worth getting out of bed in the morning. While I can't introduce the kids to most of my favorite books yet (though some of the best are, in fact, children's books), I have relished the opportunity to inflict my music upon them. Naturally, I steer clear of aggressive songs with lots of curse words - we'll have to put Ministry and Wu-Tang Clan on the back burner for the time being - but Radiohead, Wilco, The Roots, and The Velvet Underground have been well received. Radiohead in particular... I remember teasing B, my ex, who works in child care, when she put No Surprises on a mix tape of songs for naptime. You're putting a song about suicide on that, are you kidding? It's a beautiful song, says she, and she's right. The kids have asked to hear it repeatedly, which I thought was great, until M asks me, hey, what's that song about? Er..... it's about the desire for a nap, says I. Close enough.

My music playing (bass, piano) had been received somewhat less enthusiastically, or so I thought until this afternoon. We had an extended trip out, picking M up from school and then going to a park. L and I were a bit tired and hungry upon returning home and I actually snapped at her for the first time, after receiving one too many demands for more food while trying to prepare my own lunch. Anyhow, a few minutes later, as I was trying to devour said lunch, she looked at me sweetly and asked if we could please go play guitars for a while. I had to put the rest of my lunch on hold while we jammed out to some Wilco. Awww yeah.