Hedgie had her nose buried in a new Nancy Drew, chewing her Hubba Bubba contentedly, but I was about to flip the fuck out.
Sarge, sensing tether's end, handed me back my charged ipod and headphones, and suddenly it was all right!
I feel lucky that I didn't have the sort of adolescence where I had to drown my parents out with music.
But I do have to drown my MIL out.
Lost in my playlist, delightfully lost. I'm not sure if MIL was talking to me because Meg White was pounding her drums just way too loud, The Streets declaiming in thick cockney, Pete Townshend wailing on a guitar more alienated than me in Texas. I had a sudden secret 14-year-old feeling like I was sticking it to the man. Even though The Man was actually a wicked little old lady, well, I'm sure she would not have approved of my noisy music.