As the mother of three small daughters, I feel it my responsibility to be a positive role model. I try and keep myself well groomed and wear "mom type" clothes. I avoid the use of slang and have tried to instruct them on the proper manners and behavior for little girls. I have been wasting my time.

Today I woke up and was informed that I am the mother of an all girl musical band. Sometime during the night my sweet innocent spawnlings have transformed into the Spice Girls. The eldest is dressed in a short pajama top that she refers to as her bra. She has found a pair of my knee-high hose and on her they have look like thigh-hi hose. She is wearing one of her younger sister's short skirts and a pair of heeled dress up shoes. This vision makes me cringe. I ask who she is and what she is doing. She informs me that she is the Spice girl with blonde hair, just like she saw on television. I am now the mother of "Sleazy Spice."

The middle one is dressed in a one-piece Barbie Bathing suit, with heeled dress up shoes. I think that perhaps she is practicing for a beauty pageant. I am not fond of beauty pageants, but given the choice of Spice Girl or Miss America, I think I'll take the latter. Unfortunately, she points at a self-stick address label that adorns her arm and proudly reports that this is her tattoo. I gasp and I ask who she is supposed to be and am informed that she is "Sweetie Spice." I decide to rename her "Not MY Daughter Spice."

The little one is dressed in a ballet costume and dress up shoes. I see her from the back and think how lovely, my little ballerina. But then she turns around and I see that she has decorated her face with markers. She looks more like a member of the band "Kiss" than one of the Spice girls. I ask who she is and her older sister blurts out that she is "Stupid Spice." After this little comment, Sleazy Spice learned that Stupid Spice may not be as smart as she is, but she is a faster runner in heels and throws a pretty good punch.

After refereeing the above-mentioned bout, I asked if they have ever seen female boxers or wrestlers on television. They said no, and whew was that a relief. Returning to the girls in the band, I asked if they played musical instruments or sang songs. I was informed that they did both and was asked if I wanted to hear them perform. How could I refuse?

Pretending that I was ignoring the show preparations, I peeked to see a toy guitar, plastic musical shakers assorted plastic bowls and kitchen serving utensil being taken out on the deck. I heard the band warming up and it was not long before I was summoned to the deck to take a front row tricycle seat. The three performers took center stage and the noise, I mean music began. The eldest, by virtue of size, not talent dictated that she would be the lead singer. She sang a melody of Barney, Veggie-Tales, and Barbie songs through a spatula microphone. She was also a drummer using a wooden spoon pounding out a beat on one of the plastic bowls. She would also occasionally hit "Stupid Spice" and her "Ouch" screams provided interesting background vocals.

The middle one preferred doing an interpretive dance routine instead of playing an instrument and singing with the group. She was very dramatic as she hopped off the picnic table bench and fell on the deck. I though she might be injured, but as a true professional, she incorporated this unfortunate accident into her routine and rolled across the deck. As she approached the edge, she hopped up and started singing with the group again. I was impressed and offered applause.

The little one, vying for the lead singer spot, started screaming the words to her own songs and pushing her fellow band members until the group dissolved and only her solo act remained on stage. She ended her performance in an unusual way with a stripper routine and then scurried back to her bed/dressing room.

I followed her inside the house to find her with the other two in their bedroom. I told them that I enjoyed the show and as a teaching exercise asked for their autographs. They were curious about this "autograph" thing and I told them that "ordinary" people like to get the signatures of celebrities as a remembrance of a meeting or event. The older two giggled and wrote their names, the youngest wrote the letter "J." Oh no, I think, not another performer who has decided to change their name to be just a "letter." Move over "Q", formerly known as "Prince", "J" has arrived.

I love my spawnlings and the way they add spice to my life. Wonder if they have room in their band for their mom…"Aged Spice."