"I wanna rock!"
I woke kind of giddy and was sharing it with my family the other morning.

"I want to ROCK!"
I chanted the words to one of my favorite big-hair bands of the eighties. Thinking back, Twisted Sister is about as heavy metal now as Bill Haley and the Comets, but back in 1984 I was easily intimidated.

"Tell me not to play,
But all I gotta tell ya when you tell me not to play is NO,
No, No, No, No, NO"
I grimaced at Emma as she sat drinking her morning juice on our bed as we got ready for work.

Emma pulled the juice away just long enough to ask me "Who are you saying?"

"I am singing Twisted Sister, Baby. Do you like it?"

"No."

"oh."

"Daddy, you're just a Daddy." she innocently jabbed at me.

I guess my harmony was unflattering. And I supppose that is her way of letting me know I won't ever have a day job sporting hard rock covers (lucky for you Bon Jovi). Then again, it could of just been her way of telling me that she doesn't like the music, but enjoys my attempts to entertain.

Either way, it stuck with me long enough to write it down.