Born This Way

11 bad words.

There were 11 “bad words” during the recent HBO special featuring Lady Gaga’s concert at Madison Square Garden.

This, according to my seven-year old daughter.

Well we stopped counting at 11.

That’s when she fell asleep.

In my arms.

She loved the show, but it was getting late.

But never too late for a vocabulary lesson.

The F word.

The A word.

The B word.

The D word.

The C word.

It was like Sesame Street.

For sailors.

But my kids loved the show.

All three of them.

And they love Gaga.

Just like I do.

I’m not sure if letting my kids listen to the music.

Or watch the videos.

Or watch that concert.

Is the best idea.

(Are the best idea?)

But I really do enjoy exposing the kids to culture.

Exposing.

Yeah, that’s the right word.

Come on, how cute was this.

Gaga dedicates her song “Boys Boys Boys” to all her gay friends.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Then her male dancers do things that made me blush.

And throughout the performance my seven-year old was singing every word.

Father of the year, here I come.

Hey listen, these kids aren’t getting any younger.

And I better enjoy every moment.

My youngest will be a third grader next year.

The middle child will be in... middle school.

And child #1 -- my sweet innocent 14-year old little angel -- will be a freshman.

IN HIGH SCHOOL!

Ouch.

In fact, high school has already started.

Sorta.

One day after her eighth grade graduation she had a big day out with some of the girls from her new high school dance team.

I was the chaperone.

The responsible one.

(Insert joke here.)

So I picked the girls up at school, after their team practice.

And took them to Red Robin.

Where the french fries are “endless”.

And the burgers are $10!

After lunch we walked around the local mall for a couple of hours.

I stayed far enough away.

To stay out of the way.

But close enough to listen.

Hey, a man’s gotta blog.

On our way to the restaurant, I thought it would be a good job to create conversation.

So I asked what kind of dance Billy Elliott did.

(I knew the answer, but I was just trying to fit in.)

So much for that plan.

One of the girls said... “Billy Elliott... I think he did Tae-bo.”

At which point another girl jumped in, “no, that wasn’t Billy Elliott.”

“That was Billy Blanks.”

Maybe I should just keep quiet.

And so I did.

That gave me time to take notes.

And learn.

I learned that Coke Plus is “Coke with Vitamins.”

I learned that eggs and cheese don’t go on a salad.

And I learned that black dance shoes make your feet sweat more than tan ones.

“Because they are black.”

“Even indoors?”, asked one girl to another.

“Uh, yah!”

Duh.

The girls apparently learned something too.

They learned that my 2004 P.T. Cruiser doesn’t have electric door locks.

Something they had CLEARLY never seen before.

And they had to do it themselves.

That right there almost sent them straight to therapy.

When we got to the mall, we had plenty of time to go to every store.

And I think they just about did.

Soap stores.

T-shirts.

Cute jeans.

Foot massagers.

There was a whole lot of perusing.

Not a lot of buying.

But they were all having fun.

And that was the goal.

I was having fun too.

I plopped in my earphones and listened to sports radio.

What a beautiful day.

At one point, I stopped in a music store -- while they were next door looking at more clothes.

And just my luck, there was a giant SALE going on.

Imagine that, a SALE sign in a mall.

So I took advantage of that SALE and bought a CD.

The new CD from...

Lady Gaga, who else.

The double disk version.

Only the best for me.

When I got back to the girls they saw the bag in my hand.

And of course they wanted to know what I got.

So I showed them.

I think I got a lot of “cool” points for that one.

But those points went away seconds later.

“Hey did they have the new J.B. in there?”

“Um, J.B.?????”, I stuttered.

“Justin Bieber?”

“Oh,” I quietly mumbled.

“I didn’t see it there.”

So much for those cool points.

Not my fault.

I was born this way.