My daughter is a huge Beyonce fan. Or at least as huge as you can get when you're only 45 inches tall. Upon hearing she was coming to our area for a concert, Mia asked if I would take her. So, with her on my lap, we looked up tickets.
As the page loaded, I asked, "So, you want to see Beyonce?" (The price: $118 a ticket. The security word to enter was, no joke, "sybil." I'm sure you'd have to be crazy to take a five-year-old to see Beyonce.)
"No, I don't want to just see her, I want to meet her," she said. (And, yes, for only $1000 we could fulfil that dream and purchase a meet and greet.)
Secretly, I think she wants to show BK her take on "Single Ladies." She calls it "Naked Men." And the lyrics are: "All the naked men, all the naked men, all the naked men, all the naked men, put your hands down! Uh oh oh, Uh oh oh oh oh oh, Uh oh oh."
If you have to ask why she says for them to put their hands down, you get an eye roll and a, "Because...they're naked?"
So, I closed the Ticketmaster site and instead switched the screen to Webkinz. After a few minutes of Smoothie Moves, she forgot all about B-Town and started shooting ice cream onto a conveyor belt.
I'll just have to keep listening to the radio and see if someone gives away tickets. I'm sure Beyonce is looking for a follow-up hit.
"All the naked men, all the naked men..."