Vuja de

 

Vuja de

Driving my kids to their gymnastics practice, a “made-for-you” playlist of lifetime favorites starts playing automatically through the car speakers. 

Eighties hip hop and Frank Sinatra all mixed up with lullabies and Italian songs populate my phone. An acoustic version of “Oh Suzanna” fades into what is arguably one of my favorite hip hop songs of all time.

A car-contained dance party commences.

One minute we are shaking and rocking the car, and the next, I am practically causing an accident while frantically attacking the control center to turn it off.

How totally and completely inappropriate.

The words. The message.

The WORDS.

I get a flash of how my tiny daughters will be irreparably emotionally damaged.  

They question the abrupt cancellation and request definitions for a few choice words.

Yikes.

Vuja de.

Doing the same thing over and over. 

Auto-pilot.

Until one day, you see something in a new way. 

You hear something completely different.

Context is everything, right?