I only get a slight heart attack whenever I see my girls get all crazy over the Jonas Brothers (the "Jo Bros") or Zac Efron. Not High School Musical's Troy but Hairspray's Link...with the swingin', black pompadour cuz my girlies know what's up. I mean, Xixi is only three and a half and Maya will turn 5 in a matter of days. But yet, their young, impressionable minds can still decipher if someone is "cute" or boyfriend worthy.
And scares the poop out of me.
I guess what really scares me is myself. I remember being young and impressionable and liking boys. I remember the thoughts that ran though my mind. I may not have known the logistics of the man/woman thing...but I knew something was going on.
When I was about ten, I had this crazy thing for Duran Duran. Crazy. I loved their music. And they were so hot. The white suits, the hair-sprayed/lacquered, the eye make-up...it was all so, so, sooo lovely. I knew all of their songs, I had posters on my walls, I watched all of their videos. And I had my favorites: John Taylor and Simon Le Bon.
During one of our weekend visits, my Dad rented this Duran Duran video compilation for me. When he went to return that and the other movies we had rented, they had no record of us having the Duran Duran video so I got to keep it. Holey smokes. That is exactly what an obsessive, chubby, starry-eyed and curious young girl doesn't need--a VHS packed with unedited Duran Duran videos, videos they didn't even play on MTV. I watched that thing backwards and foreward, pressing pause on the interesting parts of Girls on Film.
Yay, Dad...this is great viewing material for a ten year old!
Needless to say, it just fed into my Duran Duran obsession and it educated me on female/male lust. I just saw the Girls on Film video again, and yeh, it's sixteen years later and I am practically an old woman now and it's still pretty raunchy. Dude.
Sadly, I never got to see Duran Duran in concert. I probably would have been one of those crazy girls tearing out her hair and crying. Heh.