Mid-Life Crisis Alert

 Exactly a week after he turned 43, G is clearly in the throes sort of mid-life crisis. 

It could be worse.  Much worse.

He could have come home looking like this.  And to be honest, I'm not sure what would be worse - the tattoos or the hair.

He's not coming home with one (or ahem...both) of these

while riding one of these. 



Or even worse with one of these. 

He's not suddenly developed an affinity for this

or this. 


So, really, who's to complain?

He just suddenly wants to be like this. 

And really, who doesn't love Alex Van Halen, right?

So, I'll buy him one of these, soundproof it, and throw it in the backyard.

He can practice his drum licks to his heart's content. For hours on end.  Through the night even.

And then, that way, when I have MY midlife crisis and come home with this,

he'll be too busy to notice.

Problem solved.

Sometimes I shock myself with my brilliance.