Her daughter had control of the car radio. It was a common place occurrence really, though to say it was the radio would be an oversimplification. She’d gone and plugged her music player into one of the ports on the dashboard, and was flicking through the shuffle playlist. As Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed A Girl’ started up, she tutted disapprovingly. “I do wish you wouldn’t listen to this song, it’s not very appropriate.”
The sigh her daughter gave was an impressive one, working in the slouch of the shoulders and the hanging of her head. “You’re so old fashioned at times, Mum, it’s just a song.”
“It’s pandering, that’s what it is. If you listen to the lyrics and analyse the meaning, you’d see what I mean.” She sniffed, getting a little annoyed that the song was still on.
“Not this again,” the daughter whined. “We’re off to Lakeside for some shopping, not Desert Island Discs.”
Sighing softly, she glanced over. “All right, I won’t, but just promise me that if you do kiss any girls, it will be for the right reasons. Not for being drunk, for trying to impress boys, or without any committal.” Taking her hand off the gearstick, she patted her shoulder. “Just ask mum, she’s been on the receiving end of someone leading her on, just to score points with someone. It really hurt her.”
“Okay, I promise I won’t do any of that if I kiss any girls.” Her daughter said with a flash of a smile, changing the track to Muse’s ‘Supermassive Black Hole’. “Better?”
There was silence between them for a few minutes, before her daughter piped up with a question. “How long did it hurt for? Being lead on, that is.”
“A little while… but I saw what happened, got up the courage to talk to her, and sixteen years later we’re married with a daughter with a somewhat questionable taste in music.” She laughed warmly, heading for the junction off the motorway.
“Hey! Don’t make me point out your Pat Benatar albums!”
The music was soon ignored for a vigorous and spirited (and very fun) debate on the pros and cons of artists from various genres and eras.