Husband's brother plays the drums in a band. Whenever we can we head to the city to watch them play. We consists of all of husbands siblings and their spouses. (Husband comes from a family of Irish twins, 4 of them all-together. Two boys. Two girls. We love each other, we annoy each other and we are always there for each other.)
We often call ourselves the "old-asses" and realize that in our mid to late 30's the band bar scene is no longer catering to us. We hog the bar stools and talk about our kids between sets, and if the band isn't going on till after 11 pm fuggetaboutit. And even though none of us will admit it out loud, we get a thrill when we watch them play cause we're "with the band".
The late nights are getting to us though, especially the siblings with wee ones, and we don't go very often anymore. And the bookings have become less diverse. Well frankly, the only place that books the band now is Phyllis's in Chicago. A great dive bar, but not the Cubby Bear fame we once enjoyed as groupies.
I supposed at some point we'll be "really old-asses" just sitting around talking up how it used to be when we hung with the band. Our kids will roll their eyes and try to get the hell out before we play the CD for their friends. But in the meantime, I intend to get this tee-shirt for Husband's Brother's daughter.
Check it out, and cruise the rest of my blogger friend Mama C-Ta's Urban Baby Runway store. Cause when you get too old to wear rocker tees you can start dressing your baby in them.