I should have known what I was getting into when I married him.
I was aware of his penchant for rock bands and heavy metal. I knew of his love for playing the air guitar around the house. I had listened to him serenade me with power love ballads.
He was a child formed by the 80’s. It was a part of his past that I couldn’t deny.
I knew he was a butt-rocker.
But what I didn’t know? Is that when your beloved is a butt-rocker, it will affect your offspring. Your children will slowly begin to acquire a taste for the stuff as well. It doesn’t matter how much you shelter them, or immediately try to switch the music over to the Wiggles soundtrack when they are in the car. Sometimes thing slip. Those grating guitar riffs – and the lyrics that accompany them – will find a way to your child’s ears.
And they hear all.
When your beloved is a butt-rocker, your kids might prefer Van Halen over Dixie Chicks. If you happen to be a country fan, you may desperately search for ways to rectify that injustice. To no avail.
When your beloved is a butt-rocker, your kids may be confused about who Cinderella really is. Sometimes it’s a beautiful blue princess; other times, it’s a big hair band reliving the glory days of the 80’s over and over again. This will cause jealousy and mayhem when dad announces he’s going to see a Cinderella concert… sans kids.
Your children may run around the house screaming, “I AM IRON MAN. DEE-DEE-DEE-DEE-DEE-DUM-DOO-DEE-DEE.” All while practicing their air drum flair.
Your daughter may suddenly belt out the chorus to “Livin’ on a Prayer,” in public, causing you to want to hang your head in mortification.
Your kids might see a man sporting a mullet, acid washed jeans and eyeliner, and think nothing of it.
When your beloved is a butt-rocker, he might want to name the family car “Axel.” After Guns n Roses. Because he thinks it’s funny to break out into “Welcome to the Jungle” every time you load the kids up into the car.
And to trump it all, when your beloved is a butt-rocker, he may buy your kids clothes like this.
And even though you groan a little inside when they wear it, you can’t help but think it’s cute. So you laugh, shake your head, and let it slip by.
And you admit should have know what you were getting into… when you married a butt-rocker.