Mom of the future

I waited a little while before changing X this morning, due to his new habit that requires two diaper changes within the first half hour of waking. After seeing him make the face and freeze for a moment before returning to crawling around, I checked his diaper. Sure enough, it was time for a change. I unzipped him and broke out into a little song of "Poop, There It Is." X gave me his trademarked scowly face. "You're right, I'm dating myself," I said. "You'll hear this song on the oldies sta..."

Then it hit me that nearly all my cultural references will be incomprehensible to my kids. What's a tape? What's a station? What's a dial?

This must be payback from all those times I made fun of my mom for not being able to program the VCR. (The what?)