A broken record still spins

“You sound like a broken record.”

If you’re in the over 30 crowd, you probably know what that means without even hesitating to think about it, so bear with me a moment while I clear this up for the younger generations.  

Before there were iPods, there were CDs.
Before CDs, there were cassette tapes.
Before cassette tapes, there were 8 track tapes.
Before there were 8 track tapes, there were records.

If you’ve ever seen the Toy Story 2 movie, it’s that thingamajig that Woody and Jessie are running around and around in circles on in the Woody’s Roundup merchandise scene.

Well, we older folks used to watch those records spin round and round, waiting for the needle to hit the right groove and the tunes begin to fill the air.   But ever once in a while, that needle would get stuck and the same lyric would repeat over and over again until you manually lifted the needle arm and repositioned it.  It was kind of like the “antique” version of your computer not buffering a video online, and you keep trying to refresh the page or restart the video.

Until now, I’d always thought people used that phrase, “You sound like a broken record” when another adult was nagging them or telling them the same information over and over again. 

But now that I have kids, I’m realizing that the person who first coined that phrase, must have had a two year old in the house.

I know because my entire day pretty much goes like this:

Where my Daddy?
At work
Where Big Kid?
At school
Where’s the cat?
On the bed
Where my Daddy?
At work
Where Big Kid?
At school!
Where’s the cat?
On the bed!
Where my Daddy?
At work!!!
Oh.

Baby Tessa (at the babysitter’s house) eat toast and banana
She does?
Yes, Baby Tessa eat toast and banana
That’s good
Baby Tessa eat toast and banana
That’s a good breakfast
Baby Tessa eat toast and banana
That’s great.  That sounds yummy
Baby Tessa eat toast and banana
That’s wonderful, Honey.  Mama’s head is going to explode now.

Plode?
Yes, explode
Mama’s head, 'plode now?
Yes.
Mama’s head, 'plode now again?


There isn’t a migraine pill on this planet that is big enough...

Oh, but my favorite moments are when the record gets stuck, but instead of somebody repositioning the needle, they just rip the record off the player altogether and put a new one on, spinning your brain off into confused rotations that never quite catch up. 

That goes something like this:

Me eat chicken for dinner?
Yes
Me eat chicken for dinner?
Yes, Mama is going to cook the chicken
Me eat chicken for dinner?
Yes, I’m going to make the chicken in just a minute
Me eat chi-.  No! I not wear my red jammie pants for night night!
Yes Sweetheart, the chicken will be ready in a few jammie pants...wait a minute... WHAT?

Oh sure, you moms of infants and one year olds, just sit there and chuckle.  Go ahead and think to yourself, why don't you just ignore it.  Trust me, your time is coming.  

There is something about turning two that enables the voice to reach a whole new decibel level.   And they are not afraid to use it. So go ahead, try to ignore it.   Yeah, good luck with that.  It will only get louder, and Louder, and LOUDER. 

You will be expected to comment. Not just once.  Every single time.  When you are in the bathroom.  When you are on the phone.   When you are walking the big kid into school, talking to the teacher.  When you are cooking, driving, balancing the checkbook, emailing your boss, reading a legal document or doing your taxes.  If you are clipping your toenails, unwrapping a tampon, vomiting or gargling mouthwash - doesn’t matter.     When the needle is stuck, you either have to sing along to the same thing over and over and over again or whack that thing off its axis.  

Since it’s neither legally nor morally acceptable to let your mind wander down that path, you comment.  Every single time.  Every single time.  Every single time...