I love an award show. The gowns. The awkward moments when people can’t read the teleprompter because they’ve either had too many cocktails or too few visits to their optometrist. Or when performers accept an award in their underwear. Yes, that happened. Thank you, Twenty One Pilots. It’s awesome when it’s not your kid.
But as a parent, I get a little nervous about an award show like the Grammys. Because nothing can make me feel older and more motivated to start Googling “assisted living facilities” than a string of super-young musical artists (with a lot of punctuation and random words in their names) taking the stage to sing something that sounds sort of like music. By the way, I highly suggest you don’t ever watch the MTV Music Awards if you’re fragile about the idea of aging.
So last night, I sat down with my tweens (ages 10 and 12) and braced myself for an evening of me saying a lot of…”Who is that? What does she sing? Couldn’t the Chainsmokers call themselves the Kindness Addicts?”
Except I didn’t.
I knew most of the performers! In fact, it was my kids asking me to identify people.
Kids: Who’s that?
Me: John Travolta. Or as you know him, Danny Zuko.
Kids: What about him?
Me: Keith Urban. He’s a country singer. Married to movie star Nicole Kidman. Apparently he gets his highlights done regularly.
Kids: Who is he singing with?
Me: Carrie Underwood. She won American Idol! You kids need to get out more. Oh wait, she won when you girls were ages 1 and not born. So you’re forgiven.
Kids: What song are they doing Carpool Karaoke to?
Me: Neil Diamond. It’s called “Sweet Caroline.” And I guess no one brushed up on the lyrics.
I hate to brag, but I was on Grammy fire!
OK, maybe the Grammys skew a little older than the iHeartRadio Music Awards. But did you see Jennifer Lopez and Heidi Klum? They’re gorgeous. They’re my age. They’re parents. I’m sure I’m exactly like them.