So the kids and I are on our usual Texas tour, with stops at Papaw’s house and then Nana and Grandaddy’s.

This time, the disputes stemmed from different music preferences. Tootie wanted Taylor Swift, tracks 5, 8 and 11, rinse, repeat. I wanted driving music: read Lady Gaga, ’80s hits and classic country. And the E-man? Well, my little napper wanted only silence.

So here’s what it sounded like in our car:

Lady Gaga:

Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh…
Stop telephonin’ me!
Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh…
I’m busy!
Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh…
Stop telephonin’ me!
Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh…

Cathy, dancing as she sings:

Boy, the way you blowin’ up my phone
won’t make me leave no faster.
Put my coat on faster,
leave my girls no faster.
I shoulda left my phone at home,
’cause this is a disaster!
Callin’ like a collector –
sorry, I cannot answer!

Tootie:  Mommy, quit singing! I can’t hear Beyonce!

Cause I’ll be dancin’
‘Cause I’ll be dancin’
Tonight I’m not takin’ no calls, ’cause I’ll be dancin’!

E-man: I can’t sleep! I need my beauty sleep!

Tootie: Now can we listen to Taylor Swift again? Put it on 11.

Our song is the slamming screen doors,
Sneakin’ out late, tapping on your window
When we’re on the phone and you talk real slow
’cause it’s late and your mama don’t know
Our song is the way you laugh
The first date “man, I didn’t kiss her, and I should have”
And when I got home … before I said amen
Asking God if he could play it again

Tootie: Play it again.

E-man: I can’t sleep!

Don’t get me wrong. I like sweet little Taylor. But omg, if I have to hear 11 (or 5 or 8) all the way back to Arkansas, I will be certifiable. Of course, the kids clearly feel the same way about my singing.