Turn Down The Suck

P emails me last week. "The Wiggles are coming."

"You're joking right?" After a couple of minutes I send a follow-up, "Well, you can go."

The Wiggles embarrass me like no other children's group can. It's not necessarily the way they dance, or even the music specifically, there's just something about how it all comes together that makes me want to eviscerate myself. But The Boy would probably enjoy himself, and P seems to tolerate them, so I set aside my musical pride long enough to buy two tickets.

P's clearly the bigger parent here. She's not a Wiggles fan, but willing to sit through it for our son's enjoyment. And she's not alone, as the procession of mini-vans in the parking lot would seem to indicate.

So right now P and The Boy are at the concert while I sit in a near-by coffee shop. The show will probably be great, and The Boy will have the time of his life. yet here I sit sipping an Americano.

Yup, I'm a little man who can't look past my personal tastes for my son's benefit. But you know, despite rationalizing it, I'd still rather stick a screwdriver in my ear.