Juke Box Heroes

When my children were given Wal-Mart gift cards for Christmas … well, you all know how I feel about shopping at Wal-Mart. So I thought I was being sneaky and very, very clever when I suggested Blaine take them shopping with their new cards, knowing he has infinitely more patience than I do. What I didn’t anticipate, perhaps to offset the patience, was his total lack of anything remotely resembling common sense.

How else do you explain that two of my children came home with these??



I mean, really, what on earth was he thinking???

So, I tried to be a good sport.

It was sort of cute, after all, in the beginning, that after they would practice outside, they wanted us to listen to their “songs”. It was sort of cute when they joined forces with the two little girls down the street, who have plastic mariachis, and decided to form a band. They let Brayden be the singer, and they named themselves “The Hurricane Kids”, which I still thought was cute, until Kendrie told they picked that name, “after Tyler’s dad, who is in Iraq right now, helping the people build their houses after the hurricane”. Now I’m a little worried about her grasp, or total lack therof, on current events.

But it was still cute, primarily because they made plans for music careers, and began designing their costumes, and discussed how they would travel by bus to their concerts. And it was cute how they kept flashing the rock and roll hand sign.



Which Kendrie can’t quite manage the pinky action.



And it was cute when they planned to put on shows for dogs. Because nobody appreciates a good guitar riff like the neighborhood schnauzer.



It was cute to watch them through the window, out on the driveway, with the radio playing in the garage, totally rock out. For the record, my children’s primary exposure to the world of adult contemporary music is my own personal love of 80’s big-hair arena bands. So the fact Kellen thinks Survivor’s "Vital Signs" is classic rock and roll, and that nobody rocks quite like the Scorpions, while unfortunate, is understandable.

But it QUIT BEING CUTE when the weather got cold and rainy here. Now they are “practicing” inside and I am forced to listen. Endlessly. To the “music”, which is a kind and generous term for the sounds coming out of these guitars. Are they even guitars? I’m not sure, they look a little like banjoes.

Regardless, after two days of cold weather, and countless hours of inside practice, I have decided they are not cute. They are the instruments of Satan.

The guitars; not the kids.

And I am charging my iPod as I type this. And will be eternally grateful for the earphones.