Scarred

Can I just throw this out there? I don't get the Jonas Brothers. They're these dorky, floppy haired, unattractive teenagers who pretend to sing and play guitar. Their songs (at least from what I've gathered during the 8 minutes I've been able to stand to watch them on TV) suck. The appeal eludes me.

I recognize that 30 year old women are not their target audience. But even if I try to put myself in the shoes of a pre-pubescent girl, I still just don't get it. I mean, sure, when I was in Jr. High we had our teen idols, too. But Donny Wahlberg was totally hot and had all the dance moves. These Jonas Brothers don't even dance.

In my quest to try to understand what the draw is, I watched part of their free concert on the morning show today. As I stared in confusion, I noticed that Moon, sitting next to me, was also watching. So I asked, "What do you think of this band?"

"I don't know," he replied, looking as if waiting for me to tell him what he should think.

The good parent in me wanted to tell him, "They suck. You hate them," but I really was interested to hear if their music was appealing to a nine year old.

"Do you like these songs?" I probed.

"Uh, I don't know."

"Well, do you think they're good?"

"I don't know. They're ok, I guess."

"Do you think they're cute?"

Moon stared at me as if I were the stupidest human he'd ever encountered. He didn't even need to dignify my question with a verbal response. His face said it all. He did not think they were cute, he's not even into girls yet, let alone dorky boy bands, and he would like me to go die.

Peanut and The Baby are breathing a little easier because I try to only scar one child per day.