No Parental Guidance Here

* Updated

I'm working on a short story (yes, shut up, I'm also blogging) and I was mining my mispent teenage years for my main character. I was remembering how I would lock myself in my room, throw on really obnoxious music and crank the stereo to irritate my parents. One of the songs I was particularly fond of torturing my folks with was Parental Guidance, by Judas Priest. Just for fun, I looked up the lyrics:

You say I waste my life away, but I live it to the full
And how you know anyway, you're just mister dull
Why don't you get into the things we do today
You could lose twenty years right away, so we say

We don't need, no, no no no parental guidance here

Every day you scream at me to turn the music low
Well if you keep on screaming, you'll make me deaf you know.
You always chew me out, because I stay out late
Until your three-piece suit comes back in date, get one thing straight

We don't need, no, no no no parental guidance here

There's no communication. I'm tired of explanation
Is this message getting through
You went through the same thing too
Don't you remember what it's like to lose control
Put on my jacket - for you get too old. Let's rock n' roll.

We don't need, no, no no no parental guidance here

Oh no
One life
And I'm gonna live it up

Yes, this was my anthem back then. I was such an ass. I so hope there's no such thing as karma.

* Update

She's already looking disturbingly rebellious, no?




***

When I asked my mother what she wanted for Mother’s Day, her answer was to be part of Cakes first trip to the zoo (yes, she just turned two, and hadn’t been to the zoo yet).

I wasn’t sure if two was old enough to appreciate the zoo enough to make the journey north of Bloor (we never go north of Bloor), and pay the ridiculous $20 each, plus $8 for parking. Fortunately, for us anyway, it is.

Cakes loved the zoo. I hate crowds, so we went on a Tuesday and arrived at 9:15 a.m., beating the crowds and winning a premium parking spot. Because we made the trip on the Tuesday after a long weekend during which I hosted a birthday party, and two dinner parties, I didn’t have my act together enough to pack a picnic lunch (highly recommended—the food there is shite, and expensive) [read on]