Billy Ray Cyrus Eases My Daughter's Achy Breaky Heart

"That song gets on my nerves," my niece said, the third time. "I don't like Billy Ray Cyrus."

 My seven-year-old responded. "It isn't his only song."

 "Don't care," the niece said. "I hate the song and him."

 "Have you seen him dance?" Grandmother asked. "He shouldn't."

 "But he sings good," my daughter said. "And he's a nice person."

 My sister chimed in. "I hate his hair." The niece snickered and agreed.

 I patted my daughter's leg. She fought a losing battle but I wanted to show support.

 "He sings really good," my daughter said. "Did you listen to the rest of the CD? "Achy Breaky" isn't his only song. You'll like his blues."

 "He should choose long or short, and wear his hair one length." This from a brother who apparently decided the conversation needed another negative voice.

 My daughter fought tears. "Don't you get it? He's a singer and he sings good."

 I rescued my daughter by changing the subject. She returned to the conversation on the way home. "Why did they act like they didn't hear me? They ignored everything I said."

 "They didn't want to acknowledge anything positive about him," I explained.

 "Every time I said something good, they said something bad." She stopped. "That's why you didn't say anything?" I nodded. She ended the conversation on this positive note. "Thanks for teaching me to be like you so I can like Billy Ray Cyrus."

 Thank you, Billy.

 (She's still a fan and needs a new guitar.)