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My kid rocks.

Biblical Interpretation Through the Eyes of a Two-Year-Old

Last night The Wee's devotion was about John 15:5 - "I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." It used a cute little picture of a boy in overalls climbing a ladder to pick cherries off a tree to illustrate the difference between branches with fruit and branches without fruit. The devotion's last question was "What kind of branch do you want to be?" (Meaning, do you want to have fruit or no fruit?)
The Wee immediately and excitedly replied, "I'm a branch! No, I'm the ladder. You be the vine!"
Maybe next year.

Love Rusts When It Rains on Romance ...

Starship's single "We Built This City" has been labeled by more than one source as the worst song of all time. Anyone who believes this has clearly not heard the rest of that album.

I bring this up because I've had "Love Rusts," the last track from Knee Deep in the Hoopla, stuck in my head for days. DAYS. It's my own fault for having bad taste in music as a child. Knee Deep in the Hoopla was one of three tapes I took with me on my family's bus tour of Europe when I was 7, and I played it continuously on my Walkman throughout the trip, pausing only to pop the tape, flip it, and rewind to the beginning. I can't remember what I ate for dinner last night, but I can't manage to forget the words to "Rock Myself to Sleep."

If you think "We Built This City" is the worst song ever, you have to listen to "Love Rusts."

You've got to sit back and appreciate the inanity of these lyrics. "Tell my landlord I'll be home by June" is not the type of line that deserves a dramatic high note. Grace Slick does what she can to inject a little something into the lines, but she ends up sounding like Catwoman reading a script she just doesn't get. If you can't make yourself sit through the whole thing, the 2:30 mark is a favorite spot for a chuckle, when the backup singers start getting overzealous. The track is basically over at 3 minutes, but the beat goes on for an agonizing two minutes more, and after a while even Mickey gets bored of bursting in with his little pop-scream interjections.

Worst. Song. Ever.

The Little Red Hen Is a Jerk

I censor books. It's true, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

When I'm reading "Bella the Bravery Fairy" to my daughter, I leave out the words on the last page. Because Bella has just helped three baby birds learn to fly, and she closes the lesson by saying, "You can do anything, if you only believe you can." Hey, I think kids should believe in themselves. But they can't do anything if they believe they can. My child, for instance, cannot fly, no matter how hard she tries. And I would rather she not believe she can.

And don't even get me started on "The Little Red Hen." Yes, it's rude of the pig, the duck and the cat to refuse over and over again to help her with her seeds and wheat and flour. No question. But really, you don't yell out the window "Who will help me eat this bread?" if you don't intend on letting anyone touch it. That's just mean-spirited. Plus, I want to teach my kid that treating others well, even when they're not nice to you, is a virtue she should cultivate and be proud of.

In my version, they all sit down together and share the bread. The end. She likes it better that way anyway.