Warping the Children

Sunday night, while I was doing the dishes, I decided I didn't want to listen to Casey Kasem do his countdown on the radio. so I put a John Denver CD in the player and let it spin. As they do when they're bored, the kids followed me. Not because they wanted to help with the dishes in any way, but because they heard the music and are attracted to loud music, movies, whatever, like moths to a flame. Next thing I knew they were tarryhootin -- that's the only word that can describe it, tarryhootin -- through the kitchen, clapping and shrieking and laughing as John Denver sang about how glad he is to be a country boy.

They played the song again. And again. And again. And again. They tried to clap with the music. Liam got there, but the other two never did arrive. (More evidence of Dave Barry's theory that Repbulicans are musically impaired.)

Then when I got home last night, they were playing the song AGAIN. Still dancing and tarryhootin. And clapping in that cute little off manner. Should I be concerned that I'm warping my children in this way? Or should I be more concerned that the warping is coming from them, and that I'm getting bent in their odd little gravitational pulls?

Oh well. I suppose there are worse things I could warp them with than John Denver.