I didn't have much idea what it was about but: OMG as she would say, was it right up my avenue, or wot?! A movie about 80's rock music, with soundtrack including loads of my favourite rock songs, including one from Bon Jovi. In hindsight, the poor teenager didn't stand a chance. It was an early showing and fairly empty and other people were singing too. She gave up after about the 18th time of hissing "Mum, stop singing". Last to leave the auditorium - with not another soul in sight - I air punched and hair swang up the aisle to 'Paradise City', while DD1 slid along the wall squealing 'stop it', looking like she might faint. As I reached the door, I abruptly turned my final air punch into a hair smooth as the usher came in with his black plastic sack to collect the rubbish. A tiny cry escaped DD1. Still singing (quietly) walking along the high street I got: "Mum, you look like you're drunk. Please, can you just hold on until we get in the car?"
Earlier in the week, we'd gone to the supermarket to choose dinner without the restraint of our little fussy eater (currently facing snails, and amphibian legs) and I sang, apparently too loudly, 'Just the Two of Us'. Again, reprimanded. I don't set out to embarrass, but as my very existence is enough to mortify if we're spotted by anyone she knows under the age of twenty, a little singing can't make it much worse, surely? Besides, unless I'm very much mistaken, there was a grin in the grimace from the daughter. And when I said goodnight, she gave me an extra hard cuddle as she shook her head in despair.
All of which provides me with the perfect excuse to post gratuitous pics of my number one boys taken at gigs where I can air guitar and head bang amongst like minded people. Ladies, you're welcome.