Except that I don't like big butts, so I am lying. I mean, I don't dislike big butts, I just don't particularly have a thing for them, you know? They're not something that I think about on a daily basis. I like big lots of things - big chocolate bars, and big glasses of gin, and big jars of Nutella, and big beds, and big wads of cash, and big muscles, and big brains, and big love, but not particularly big butts.
But I cannot get the stupid song out of my mind.
|OR CAN THEY????|
I like big butts and I cannot lie. All you other brothers can't deny...
Except I'm not even a brother! What's more, I don't even have a brother! I can't relate to this song on any single level, but it is playing in my head all day long. And to add insult to injury, whenever it starts playing in my head I have to dance. Yes, DANCE. And not just any old dance, either. I have to wiggle my butt.
I like big butts and I cannot lie! I sing, turning my back to whoever is in the room and shaking my booty in their face. This is endlessly amusing for my husband* but rather less amusing for my kids. The 11 year old rolls her eyes and tries to ignore me, which isn't too hurtful, but the 13 year old gets quite aggressive and threatens violence, which I find a little excessive, particularly when he has friends around. I really want them to feel like we have a warm and welcoming household full of love and acceptance, not one in which a simple butt dance leads to physical recrimination.
As for the five year old, well, she gets very distressed, putting her hands over her eyes and yelling 'Stop it Mummy, stop it!' Which, when we are in the supermarket, is really quite concerning, because then people think I'm abusing my daughter in some way, instead of just expressing my inner Gangsta.
I also find myself dropping I like big butts into general conversation. I saw a dog the other day and exclaimed 'I like big mutts and I cannot lie!' except that I don't like dogs much at all, and the big ones really scare me. And on the weekend I discovered that a friend had bought a large number of bagels. I like big bagels and I cannot lie! I texted him. I never heard back.
So the moral of this post is that some songs are dangerous and make liars of us all.
And if anyone has a way to get big bloody butts out of my tiny little brain, I would very much appreciate advice.
*who just read this post and told me it is not 'endlessly amusing' at all, but in fact he grew tired of it after the first 250 dances