It's defintiely NOT the music. In fact, also not a surprise to those that know me well, I am far from a fan of the music that the Jersey kids fist pump to. I can't even call it music. It's always been that way for me. The techno/house/trance crap that they call music does nothing but agitate me.
This is why I do not do well in clubs unless I'm completely polluted. If I were to get kidnapped in some foreign country, and tortured, they could skip the water board and just stick me in a room with trance music pumped in.
I think I'd go crazy in 2.2 seconds.
So get this...
Our boy seems to like to beat up the beats like the Jersey kids.
During the past week, NZ have gone on a couple fun outings ( Tuesday night Dodger game and a friend's 30th Birthday at a club last night). Both exposed us to the club/techno/house-ish Dj music. Of course, I got agitated because pregnant girls don't drink ( read above disclaimer..alcohol helps my tolerance of said music) but what happened next is a frick'n mystery.
The boy started fist pump'n in my belly. Like seriously rockin' out full throttle.
Is that even possible?
I pretty much only play country music and 80's-90's alternative music in my car. I never get that response from him with my pumped up "Dirt Road Anthem" that I sing ever so loudly to (off key, of course) each time it comes on.
Ah well, he's asserting his individuality early, I suppose.
Perhaps a pair of Bose noise cancelling headphones will be on my registry list so I can use them 13 years from now when he turns our home into a rave.
Keep on rockin' baby boy, you're a guido in the making.