OK...my oldest child has some new friends.
You might think this is a good thing, but it is not. You see, these are older boys who are not the kind of role models I would choose. In fact, they are kind of more like "sex-drugs-and-rock-n-roll" models. Their names are Steven, Joe, Brad, Tom and Joey. You guessed it, Aerosmith.
And who on earth introduced my son to these deliquents? Yes...his father.
I know that many of my readers will only recognize my husband as a Brooks-Brothers-wearing, salad-eating, Bishopric-going, VP-type guy. But under the dark suits and well-developed pectoral muscles beats the heart of a true blue ROCKER!!!
As an impressionable, young BYU coed whose musical tastes only ventured as far as Michael Jackson, Chicago, Barry Manilow and the B-52s, I was a little nervous about my boyfriend's wild side. But during our whirlwind courtship, I found myself strangely attracted to this bad boy and his hair bands. Along with my future husband, I fell in love with Van Halen, Def Leppard, Whitesnake and, yes, Aerosmith.
Before the kids came along, we loved to listen to all kinds of music. We jammed to his old stuff and listened to Kenny Rogers on road trips. The soundtrack of Evita was our favorite for a whole year. We saw Van Halen in concert and made a pilgrimage to Sammy Hagar's Cabo Wabo cantina while in Mexico. Once we even won free movie tickets by playing the Newlywed Game on KBER 101.
Then parenthood hit and we gave up late nights and loud music. We started to be good examples.
On the rare occasion that we are actually in the same car together, we are usually listening to Kidz Bop 8 or Spanish for Kids or blood-curdling screams from the backseat.
When my eight-year-old found his dad's old CD collection, I didn't know how to react. Did I really want my child to "Walk this Way" or feel "Sweet Emotion" so soon? How to tactfully explain that the pretty designs on the disk cover are actually photos of (gulp) the band's nipples?!
So...I'm sure Brad and I will come up with some parenting policy soon. The old music will probably go the way of R-rated movies, curse words and too-much junk food.
And in the meantime, I will be singing about the Dude who looks like a lady...