Last week the kid and I were taking a road trip to the Mall of America, about an 8hr drive for us. She was driving and blasting her hardcore rap and reminiscing about how she used to listen to the clean version of these songs.
I immediately started to cry.
Not really. But I did remember how much time we spent in the car as I would chauffeur her to school. Pre-car for her, of course. We talked about a lot of things and listened to all types of music. We negotiated the radio - sometimes using bribery or trickery. Or at least I did.
But despite her penchant for rap music and her love of problem novels, she has grown into a well-rounded young lady. Or maybe due to it.