The Goon Squad and I were totally rocking out on the way home from Tae Kwon Do. I still had a couple of my 80s hair metal CDs in the car from when Laurie and I went to the M3 concert on Saturday and the kids and I were listening to some Guns N’ Roses.
From the rear view mirror I could see my daughter flashing me the devil horns from her car seat and I thought:
This is the life. This is freaking awesome.
I was all “Hey, you guys like Guns N’ Roses? Cool. I love this album!”
And my kids were super cool they were all “Yeah, we like rock and roll!”
They were even thrashing a little bit. This is what parenthood should be like, right? Your kids are supposed to like what you like.
For example, my son is absolutely obsessed with all things Star Wars. He probably says the words “General Grievous” at least twelve times a day on average. He keeps asking me if I like the Rebels or the Sith better, and if I say the rebels then I am lame because clearly the Empire is far superior and he would be happy to explain why in great detail.
It is a little bit freakish, but I have remind myself that at our wedding his father and I chose to walk into our reception to “The Imperial March” by John Williams, so I guess glass houses and stones and apples and trees and such.
I was feeling really good for the first time in a while. I was enjoying being a mom. I was having fun. That was when it hit me.
“It’s So Easy” has a lot of curse words in it. I mean A LOT.
Axl Rose sure says “fuckin’ ” a lot. Maybe I have overestimated my parenting skills. Perhaps I should hit skip a few times and see if I can find something more appropriate. Oh yes, “Mr. Brownstone”. A song about heroin is much more suitable for six year olds. Skip. Skip. “Your Daddy works in porno now that mommy’s not around…” Skip. Skip. Skip. “I’ve been thinkin’ bout thinkin’ bout sex…”. Screw it, I give up. We’ll listen to “Rocket Queen” and I will just answer any uncomfortable questions about what that means when we get home. I mean, can it be any more awkward than explaining c-sections, pubic hair or why they should stop saying “sexy lady” so much? Nope. I’m good.
Then we enjoyed the rest of our ride. We rocked some more.
And when we got home I distracted them with food.
I’m either a really good mom or the master of misdirection. Did I tell you guys about the free Bon Jovi tickets?