How My Child Ruined My Music Preferences

It’s January 2025, and like many people, I’ve decided to start the year with a little self-reflection. Nothing too wild—no marathons, kale smoothies, or lofty promises to myself that future-me will definitely keep. Just a peaceful commute to work with my “Replay 2024” playlist on Apple Music. A nostalgic look back at the tunes that got me through the last 365 days. What could go wrong, right?

Spoiler alert: Everything.

Picture this: It’s 7:15 a.m., and I’m armed with a travel mug of coffee that’s black as the cold night sky. The car heater is doing its best impression of a toaster on its last legs, and I’m ready to vibe. I hit play on my meticulously (automatically) crafted playlist, expecting a mix of rock, indie, and maybe a guilty pleasure pop anthem or two. The first notes ring out, and what greets me?

“The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round…”

I nearly spilled my coffee.

Okay, fine. Maybe it’s a fluke—a one-off mistake. After all, I do have a toddler at home. Apple Music must have just… slipped? I skip to the next song, confident the algorithm will redeem itself. But no. The universe had other plans.

“Baby shark, doo-doo-doo-doo-doo…”

Folks, when I tell you I have never felt so personally attacked by technology in my life, I’m not exaggerating. The playlist continued its descent into madness: Wheels on the Bus (again, but this time a reggae version), If You’re Happy and You Know It (featuring an off-key ukulele), and some sort of EDM remix of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star that I can only assume was produced in the depths of a nightmare.

By the sixth rendition of Wheels on the Bus (this one an acoustic version sung by what sounded like a British nanny), I had questions. How did this happen? Who hurt me? Why does Apple Music think I’m a 2-year-old in need of entertainment on a long road trip? And most importantly: HOW do I make it stop?

It turns out that somewhere along the line, my son’s musical preferences hijacked my algorithm. The hours he spent jamming to children’s classics while I desperately tried to load the dishwasher in peace had left a permanent mark. My carefully curated taste in music? Replaced by nursery rhymes. My status as a grown adult with sophisticated playlists? Completely revoked.

I spent the rest of the drive manually skipping songs, my coffee growing colder with each skip. At one point, I gave up and sat in silence because, honestly, silence was better than Old MacDonald having yet another farm. By the time I got to work, I was questioning not just my playlist but my entire existence. Am I even a person anymore, or am I just a walking, talking vehicle for children’s entertainment?

Later that day, I vowed to reclaim my musical dignity. I Googled “how to reset Apple Music algorithm,” which, fun fact, is apparently a question a LOT of parents have asked. I started liking and disliking songs with the same fervour as someone who is trying to win a game show. If Apple Music was going to insist I love The Wheels on the Bus, I was going to insist right back that I’m more of a Weird Al person. Take that, algorithm!

So, here’s to 2025: the year I fight to restore my rightful place as a connoisseur of adult music. To all the parents out there waging similar battles against playlists dominated by cartoon themes and animal noises, stay strong. We will rise above the nursery rhymes. Or, at the very least, we’ll learn to laugh about it.

Eventually.