That reputation I had built up by having children who yell out "I know this song!" whenever they hear the Shins or Spoon, and who can replicate drumbeats from the White Stripes and Ratatat has been officially shot to death today on Elliot Street. We walked up the stairs on the way out of KidsPlayce and needed to go left to get to our car, so I started a little military-style "Left, left, left, right, left" chant because I obviously have nothing better to do with myself. Then Sebastian starts belting out Beyonce's "Irreplaceable" at the top of his lungs. "To the left, to the left! Everything you own in the box to the left!" The child who normally will not sing anything and if asked says, "I don't like singing." That child. Then he expected me to sing along. And then Dorian starts chiming in, "Open da box! Open da box!" which is not actually part of the song. But that did not matter to him.
My pop-radio proclivities have now been outed and there's nothing I can do about it.