By now, I'm sure you've heard all about the can of whoop ass LL Cool J opened on a burglar who had broken into his home.
Which I, personally, find to be pretty darn cool.
I mean, seriously, who in their right mind's gonna mess with the guy whose own mama told him to knock you out?
Speaking of which...
I'm "hanging" with Nephews One and Two one afternoon. Nephew One is being deliberately annoying.
Nephew Two is following his example.
Frustrated, I tell them "Your mama just called. She said to knock you out."
I chuckle at myself, and continue to sing the song for the rest of the day.
Nephew One wants to know what that song is (he inherited his Aunt's love of music, the lucky kid).
Foolishly, or perhaps in a flash of pure genius, I play it for him.
Both Nephews go Absolutely. Ape.
It becomes requested every time we get in my car. Suddenly, it's all Club Honda Element whenever we come up your street: Aunt Heather at the wheel, playing DJ, and two little boys in the backseat, busting moves you would not believe possible from the confines of a carseat.
Nephew One wants to know who sings it.
His variations on a name have included "LL Cool Guy", "LL Good Guy", and "Mr. Cool J".
But mostly he gets it right.
LL had a nine that was easy to load. Nephew One, a lime.
"Rockin' my peers"? It's now "Walkin in my pants".
And my favorite: "when I got my jammies in my hand/man!/ooohhhh".
It seems he was also rapping about "destruction, terror, and mayhem" at dinner one night.
Nephew Two's limited one year old vocabulary has him sticking pretty much to the "out"s in the chorus.
But boy, can that kid dance.
I've recently been sneaking "Goin' Back To Cali" into the mix.
Nephew One's already got the delivery of the chorus down perfectly.
Ladies, it appears, are not the only ones who love Cool James.
I know a couple of little boys who feel the same.