It is quite possible that I am the worst mother in the world.
I have been an abject failure when it comes to exposing my teenager to popular music to the point that I had to enlist my niece's assistance to come up with a music play list for Drama Teen's birthday party tomorrow night. Fact is, if it's not on the ABC local radio playlist or on a musical theatre soundtrack (or in my case released prior to 1990) there is every chance we've never heard it.
Yep, Epic Fail in Popular Culcha. On the other hand I award myself at least a credit when it comes to exposing the lad to a more diverse world of music. He'd get a high distinction in musical theatre knowledge. And I can't be all bad if I have raised a teenager prepared to spend a Friday night at the Powerhouse with his Mum rocking out to Amanda Harrison's one woman cabaret show (for those of you whose evil mothers let you listen to demon Pop Music her CV includes being the first Elphaba in the Australian version of Wicked).
So as long as the Worst Mother of the World still buys the tickets and the theatre is dark we can sing from the same song sheet.
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