My baby is now doomed to a life of faux-hawks
Baby Evan went to his first concert last night. He seemed very very excited, kicking and rolling for almost three whole hours of music. (Slightly) Unfortunately, it was a 3 Doors Down concert. Hey, at least it wasn’t Britney Spears. Her concert is still sold out, dammit.
If it helps, I did not intend to go, it was a really last minute “discount tickets have suddenly become available and you better go out and do stuff now before you have a baby and it’s too damn late” situation. And they were really good seats, less than 20 feet from the stage but still in the raised section so the chairs had padding. Thank God. Once we were at the show, I realized I knew quite a few 3 Doors Down songs – there’s that one about being here, and the one about being gone, and the one about missing you, and the one about Superman. Oh, and that one they play during the movie previews to get teenage boys to enlist in the National Guard. But they were really energetic and the fans were totally into it and as long as the baby stayed away from my bladder his “dancing” was adorable. It was a surprisingly good time, especially when the drunk women in front of us realized I was pregnant and started offering labor advice. The one who was NOT a mother said I should totally get a mirror and watch the baby come out because it was the most beautiful thing in the world. The one who WAS a mother suggested getting all the drugs possible and totally ignoring her idiot drunk friend’s mirror suggestion. Guess who I’m gonna listen to.
It’s good to know that moms still do stuff like go to concerts with drunk friends. Can I be the drunk friend?
So if I had been preggers at the Tegan and Sara concert, would I have given birth to lesbian twins? Because that would kinda have been awesome, especially if they formed a band.
Yeah, ignore other people’s advice about pregnancy. The woman in front of me at the grocery store apparently knew the checker, and kept asking about her pregnancy (26 weeks) the sex (girl) and was she married (no)?
At least it wasn’t Bret Michaels. The baby would call it “diabeedus” for the whole of his life.
That is so cute that he was dancing in there! I was at a tattoo convention this weekend, and I witnessed plenty of very cute baby faux -hawks.