Last night, out of the blue, Jordan started singing, ""And those two little boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singing this'll be the day that I die..."
"Mama, why those little boys died?"
(Silently: Uh, maybe because they were drinking whiskey and rye?)
Out loud: "Oh, sweetheart. They were 'good old boys' and not little boys. They're called boys, but they're big men and not little boys."
And a couple nights prior, my friend LaCure had posted something about Taylor Swift and Starbucks lovers, and how list of ex-lovers made so much more sense. And I was all, "Yes! I had to look it up! Starbucks lovers was driving me crazy!"
You know about me and Big Ole Chedo Lino (don't carry me too far away...)
Right after that, I stumbled across this New Yorker article! There's a name for these mishearings! They're called mondegreens!
So go read it! And then come back and tell me about your Starbucks lovers.
Also: we love Taylor Swift around here. "Mama, I LOVE Taylor Swift!" Oh, me, too, my friend!
She's our #1 underwear dance party soundtrack. We've got a blank space, baby, and we'll write your name.