Make your own song requests, buddy

"You ask!"

"No, you!"

That was Max and me, having a stand-off. We were eating dinner at a restaurant and there was a singer/guitar duo performing. They'd asked the crowd for requests, and Max wanted them to play "It's a Livin' Thing," that '70s song by ELO that is he totally obsessed with.

I wanted him to walk up to them and say what he wanted. We were seated right nearby. If they didn't understand what he was saying, I told him, he could type out the text on his Apple watch. And I'd be there, if he needed me.

"Max, go ahead, ask them for your song!" I urged him.

"NO! YOU!"

We went back and forth and back and forth. I feel pretty firmly these days about Max being as independent as possible. In a growing number of ways, he is. He takes walks alone. He tries to get undressed on his own. He even orders at restaurants alone. But this, he wasn't up for. 

Perhaps he had a bit of stage fright—it wasn't something he'd ever done before. Maybe he figured the singer would not understand him and he didn't want to get into it in front of a crowd. Or maybe he was just in one of those my-parents-can-do-it mood. 

I gave in.

"Do you know the song It's A Livin' Thing?" I asked.

"Yes!" the singer said. "What's that song actually called?"

"It's called Livin' Thing!" said the guitarist.

"That's not something we do," the singer said. "Hey, didn't we get a request for that last year?"

"Yeah!" said the guitarist. "Someone asks for that at least once a year! So I guess that's it for this year!"

Shortly after, a woman at another table requested Hotel California. Given that Max wants to move to L.A., this was not a bad choice.  

They played it, and I impressed absolutely nobody at our table by knowing every single word.

"I want to move to California!" Max announced, for the billionth time.

"I know, buddy, I know," I said. "Maybe someday."

And then he asked, and I should have guessed it was coming, "Can you ask them to play I Love L.A.?" 

And Max could have also guessed what was coming:

"No, YOU ask," I said.