"Come on Mom! Come play Rock Band with us! Come on!!! It's fun!"
I tried to come up with a plausible excuse as to why I couldn't play. I couldn't say that I had laundry to do because my washing machine is broken. We just had dinner so I couldn't use the excuse that I had to cook. I could have told them that I had to work on my book. Hmm, honestly, I think I'd rather play Rock Band with the kids than to work on my book right now. I sighed, "OK, I'll play, but you have to promise NOT to make fun of me when I suck."
"We won't Mom! Come on! It's fun! Try the drums."
I sat down at the drum set. "How do I know which one to hit?" I asked as I looked at the four different colored drums.
"You just look at the TV." duh "Oh and if you see a yellow bar, you have to step on the pedal."
"I have to use my feet too? I don't think I'm that coordinated. If I have to use my feet, can I count this as exercise?"
My kids rolled their eyes at me and starting doubting their decision to let me join their band.
They pushed "play" or whatever it is you're supposed to push to make the song start. Colors went flashing across the TV screen at the speed of light.
"Which side am I on? Which one is me?!" I shrieked, afraid that I'd be kicked out of the band if I missed any beats.
"You're on the right, Mom! Follow the ones on the right! You're missing all of them! Hit the green one, blue, yellow, Mom, hit the blue and red now!"
I flung the drumsticks around wildly hitting anything and everything within 10 feet of me. I looked like a total spaz. I think Austin fell off my bed laughing at me. Thankfully, Jackson and Savannah were too busy playing guitar and singing to notice my total idiotness (yes, it's a word).
When we finished the song, my kids were only too happy to "let me go back to what I was doing".
"No way! I know what I'm doing now! Let me do another one! I understand how to do it. I'll do better! I promise!"
The kids relented and didn't kick me out of their rock band. And you know what? I did great! I'm the drumming queen, I tell ya!
Then the kids decided I should expand my horizons and play the guitar. That wasn't one of their better ideas. How is a person supposed to bend and contort their wrist to play that thing??? It isn't human, I tell ya! I never did well when I took guitar back in junior high for the same reason. Who can make their fingers move on the right buttons when their wrist is all twisted? It's not normal. And while you're bending your wrist in unnatural ways and trying to remember which finger presses which colored button, the colors are flashing by on the TV faster than your brain can send the signals to your mangled hand!
After that little exhibition, the kids put me back on drums where I rocked out.
"WOOOOOOOOOO! That was wicked awesome! Come on kids! Don't you want to drop out of school and take our show on the road? Come on! It'll be awesome!"
I think this is the point, they decided that Rock Band is not for parents.