We're in the car, she's given my dad a CD to listen to on the way. I'm slightly apprehensive of the music that's about to hit my ears.
It's a... surprising... mix for a 7-year-old. With soul, R&B, rap, and French "variété" (crap, basically).
She goes:
- Oh I looooove the next song - I mean I love it a lot more than the first one, that I already really really liked - but you don't have to ask Papy to turn the volume up, it's fine. I really love it, but it's fine.
- OK. I won't then.
Cue some really nasty piece of music.
- We're going to have to work on those musical tastes of yours, aren't we?
- What language is it in?
- That's English.
- Well then. Shouldn't you love it too?
Hmmm. Her teenage years should be interesting.
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