Parenting is hard sometimes. Especially when you’re dealing with more than one child- it goes from peace and quiet to clash of the titans in an instant. Sometimes as a parent… well it can be hard to distinguish between what you KNOW is right, with what is also right…but wrong… but also funny.

I remember listening to my kids play a few years ago as I cleaned the upstairs nook. The littlest one, annoyed that his sister wasn’t providing him with her full attention for the hundreth time that day, was singing the Justin Timberlake banger, “Can’t stop the Feeling” over and over. Except it wasn’t the entire song, it was only “can’t stop the” on repetition for what seemed like an eternity, and he was bellowing it out full blast while she tried to draw next to him. After what seemed like 10 minutes of this she socked him, he cried, and I had to leave my task to diffuse the situation. Our house has a “no hitting” policy, no matter how annoying the other person is.

Which led me to remenise about the past, and how ish went down in the Savino household circa 1980’s and 90’s. About the time a battle royale broke out over Toto’s song Africa, and how Nick and I formed like Voltron to rewrite the lyrics, chastising Rob for eternity.

If you aren’t familiar with the song “Africa” by Toto then you probably aren’t white, or are reeeeally young. Weezer just released their own version igniting the fire once again, and managed to hook an entirely new generation, so maybe you’ve heard it that way. Regardless, all you need to know is that even though it was released in 1982, my parents played it at full blast through the 90’s, and OFTEN. When my parents were together we had this incredible stereo and Bose speakers in the living room of our tiny 800 sq. ft house. When the volume was turned way up you could feel the music reverberating in your chest, and if you stood in the living room sometimes it felt like all the air was sucked out of the room. Robert is the middle child, and definitely the cheekiest of the three. He knew that Nick and I HATED when our parents played that song on repetition, so he would constantly request it, knowing the outcome. Then he’d dance and jam out with a shit eating grin on his face, smirking at us behind backs and reveling in his victorious win while Nick and I grimaced and covered our ears.

That day in particular, something was amiss. More than likely the summer heat, combined with zero air conditioning, too many children in close proximity , multiplied by sound decibels and divided by three with one shit eating grin created some kind of anger whirlwind. I don’t know who struck first, or last. But i do know a fight broke out- a MEGA fight- and somewhere in the midst Nick belted out “Rob wears his stupid HANES down in Africa!!” We stopped, if only for a moment. Time seemed to stand partially still as Nick and I locked eyes, brain making calculations, creating inferences altering realities. We both knew by Hanes he meant “tighty whities” or “tight dude briefs”, and even though these were a household staple at the time it didn’t mean you couldn’t poke fun. Nick and I never really teamed up against Rob. We weren’t gang- up type bullies to each other that way. As the oldest I fought Rob (our battles taught me how to fight) and Rob fought Nick. That was another thing back then- you played in the dirt, you always had at least one scraped knee and sometimes you punched to settle your differences. It was a different time what can I say. Anyway the song was still going at this point, we could hear the pan flute breakdown and knew the chorus was about to erupt again after the drums went berserk. Still locking eyes, in perfect synchronization and tune we belted:

“It’s gonna take a lot

to drag me away from you

There’s nothing that a hundred men or more

could ever do

ROB WEARS HANES DOWN IN AFRICA

(Rob wears his Hanes)

ROB WEARS HIS HANES DOWN IN AFRICAAAA”

(repeat forever)

Low key I liked the song- I think we both did. It was just the agonizing nature of it, and the fact that Rob always did it to get one over on us. Nowadays, I love it. When it comes on the radio I’M the one that turns it up, laughing hysterically, sometimes tears in the eyes at the ridiculous memories of tormenting Rob with those lyrics after that. We had a rough childhood, we three. But it shaped us into the beings we are, the parents we’ve become. It forged sibling friendships that are closer than any other family I’ve yet seen. I love my brothers to the Death Star and back, wrapped around twice and straight on to infinity. Rob definitely still wears his Hanes down in Africa though.