Taking the Go Train home from watching the Blue Jays (my team sucks but I got a free replica jersey out of the deal) I decide to tune out the conversations surrounding me and create a a new blog post.

As stimulating as listening to how faulty our education system is by the lady with the smoker voice on one side; plus an ongoing conversation about how the Red Sox have the greatest team of all time on another; I decide my thoughts; even in a sleepy state are more interesting than these moron’s best efforts.

Rather than telling smoker lady her child sounds like the problem with the education system; and Mr. MLB that the Red Sox should be good; they’ve been around since 1901, I seek refuge by retreating to my short lived commuter roots and burying my head in my phone.

And this is how my story begins.

I’m a sucker for a good deal.

I come by this penchant for value through genetics.

In the early years, Nonna Lidia was a wheeler and dealer.

She adored garage sales.

Must be pronounced; GA-raj, SAIL.

Some of my fondest Jr. Lidz adventures involved being rammed into a mini van on a Saturday morning and watching half in awe, half in fear as Nonna jumped out of the moving vehicle flocking to catch the latest deal.

This process happened so frequently, as a precocious child I legitimately wondered if the answer to “why did the chicken cross the road?” was “to run away from Nonna.”

Several years later, I realized the family coat of arms depicting value was alive and well because my father presented signs of being a cheap son of a bitch.

Equal parts growing up with rations, equal parts resourceful, my dad will buy one item at the grocery store, try to salvage household items headed to the dump, and even bring home gems recovered from the park.

I once had to convince him not to wear one of his treasures because despite of what his newly found toque said on its brim; he’s not woke.

All of that to say; with the family legacy at stake; I too have evolved into what I call a modern day bargain hunter.

Whenever someone mentions outlet mall and value menu, my heart grows three sizes.

My father’s daughter, I derive a similar sense of joy when I find what I like to call “urban treasures.”

During my onerous 10 minute walk to work, imagine my sense of excitement when I stumble upon this masterpiece:

CD

Car songs for kids.

Hmm.

My first thought;

What have we here?

Second thought;

Somebody is currently having a really crappy car ride with children.

After spending a copious amount of time polishing and trying to eliminate scratches; I’m pleased to say my efforts didn’t work.

But this make work project chewed up some clock so I’m quite proud of it.

For your reading pleasure; I’ve decided to list songs I feel would be completely appropriate car songs for children.

1. Let’s Talk About Sex: Salt N Peppa

2. Purple Pills: D 12

3. Bullet with Butterfly Wings: Smashing Pumpkins

4. Closer: Nine Inch Nails

5. Smells like Teen Spirit: Nirvana

6. Wiggle: Jason Derulo

7. Big Pimpin’: Jay-Z

8. Dragula: Rob Zombie

9. I touch myself: Divinyls

10. Milkshake: Kelis

11. Breath: The Prodigy

12. Laid: James

**Special bonus tracks**

Note: These might be original songs you might not have heard of

13. You whine, I wine too

14. Just wait until we get home

16. The wheels on the bus go–I don’t care as you as it takes you to school

So there you have it, the new and improved car songs for kids compilation.

As I step off of my big green chariot and onto the next glorious mode of commuter transportation, I mull over recreating this playlist.

I even visualize what it would be like to be a mom and have kids of my own.

I mull this over.

Lidia, Lidio, Lidzina and Lidzio would be such attractive little creatures; the finest at their craft of taking selfies, eating tacos and singing karaoke.

Did I miss out in life??!?

Should I become the cool mom with hired help (live in nanny, nurse and personal chef) that blogs about having kids and making it on her own?

I mull this over some more.

Nah.

You gotta take care of your kids.

They’re not like a shoe you find at the park.

And most the time, I don’t make my bed.

Content with my decision, I respect the role parents have and realize it’s too much of a final sale for me.

Besides; I’d rather be the cool aunt than an abusive parent.

😊