Shave

“OH MY GOD!”

My daughter ran towards me, her eyes shining.

“What is it?” I asked, wondering what had caused such excitement.

“Jessie J could say THE DAYS OF THE WEEK when she was six!”

“Oh. OK.”

“No Mum, you don’t understand. In French. She knew them in FRENCH!”

“That’s nice, dear.”

There was a short pause, as she padded away into the other room.

Before long, she was back again.

“OH MY GOD!”

“What?”

“Jessie J was PURPLE when she was born!”

I wasn’t sure of the correct response to this one. I nodded.

Another exit and entrance.

"OH MY GOD!"
"Uh huh?"
"What's the date today? QUICK! Check the date!"
"Um..it's March 27th."
"It's Jessie J's birthday and she is TWENTY FIVE! And I caught her out swearing, didn't I?* She should know better now she's TWENTY FIVE, Mum, shouldn't she?"

She turned on her heels again. This time she didn’t make it all the way back to her open copy of literary classic Jessie J: Nice To Meet You - My Story (sample chapter headings: Aries Adventures, The Voice, and Doing It Like A Dude).

A thought struck her, suddenly, and she stopped, rushing back to me, almost squealing with excitement.

“OH MY GOD!”

“Er...yes?”

“Can we look up Red Nose Day on the internet, Mum?”

“What for?”

“Jessie J has shaved her HEAD off!”

Video is Jessie J - Domino. My daughter made me check this for swear words first. 

Video is a clip of Jessie J after she shaved her head off for Comic Relief. Sort of.

*See previous entry: Swored

Swored

“Well, really. I didn’t think you were like that.”

I lay in the bath, listening to the sound of my daughter downstairs, admonishing someone.

“You swored. It’s not nice to swore. I thought you were better than that.”

I smiled to myself, wondering which imaginary friend was getting the telling-off. Was it Freya? If so, an invisible, silent girl developing a hitherto previously-unexpressed Anglo-Saxon vocabulary was an interesting development.

“You’re being resp..resp..resp...dis-respect-ful, Jessie J. I’m disappointed in you.” 

So it was a pop star who was in trouble. I realised what had happened, and shouted downstairs to my husband to check exactly what our daughter was looking up on YouTube, while I clambered out from my bubble-filled tub.

She’d been trying to watch a video for one of the songs from her Pop Princess compilation CD, but had stumbled across a demo version with fruity language.

“It had the F word, Mum. She doesn’t say that on my CD. It’s rude.”

I agreed. We had a brief chat about looking for “(clean version)” in the title of videos, and avoiding “(explicit lyrics)”, to prevent any further unpleasantness.

“I still want her book, 'Jessie J: Nice To Meet You - My Story', for Christmas, Mum. She doesn’t swore in that.”

I know all about the book. My daughter's been reading a library copy of it OUT LOUD continuously for the past few days. 

If Santa brings it, it won't be Jessie who'll be doing the sworing around here.

Video is Calexico - Gypsy's Curse (You didn't really think it was going to be Jessie J, did you?)

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