Today, while listening to the Spice Girls in the car, Rocky started singing the lyrics.
How does a 2-year-old learn to sing “If you want my future/ forget my past/ if you wanna get with me/ better make it fast … slam your body down and wind it all around”? Because that’s what she sang. Plus pretty much the whole rest of the song too, except for the “rapping” part. I can’t even understand that. The British should not rap.
My child is an alien.
Further proof: the teletubbies are aliens. It’s true, you can tell by the fact that they live on a different planet where the sun giggles and coos and blinks its eyes. Our sun doesn’t do those things, unless maybe you’re under the right influence. Plus there are rabbits instead of people and spooky self-propelled vacuum cleaners that suck up Tubby Toast like it’s crack. Seriously, Rocky is a teletubby. She’s the little brown-skinned one. Right? She is so totally Dipsy. Except that she speaks in full sentences with proper grammar and recites Spice Girls songs.
Rocky’s education for today:
Me: “Rocky, see the big purple one with the purse? That teletubby is GAY.”
Rocky: “Oh my gosh! Look Mama, there’s a BABY in the sun!”