Music?

I do not listen to music.  Anyone who knows me, knows this, but nobody understands it.  They don't understand that music, to me, sounds like...noise.  Annoying noise.  Noise that gives me headaches and puts me in a foul mood.  My car stereo is so rarely used, I forget I even have one.  Sam has vowed that my next car will not have a stereo, which is just fine with me. 

This semester, my nephew wanted to try a new school with his family living in Kansas City, and he finally wore his parents down to agree.  So, we have the privilege of having a teenaged boy (13 going on 14) living with us until May.  We are hoping he'll stay longer because I enjoy him so much.  I love pulling pranks on him because he is so darned gullible; perhaps he does not expect his middle-aged aunt to rival him in maturity level.  But with this teenaged boy comes, you guessed it, music. 

I treat him like he's one of my kids.  Almost two years ago, I had a temporary truce with music and went to my first (for both of us) concert with Ally--The Wiggles, and survived.  So, I thought we should take my nephew to a concert as well--Linkin Park.  But somehow, he'd rather miss the concert altogether than go with me.  What the...?!?  When I first told him I'd be going with him, he looked at me with shock and fear and said "You're jacking with me, right?"  Hmph!  the ingrate!!!  Listen here, friend: Going to a Linkin Park concert would be nothing short of torture for me. 

Thank God Sam likes Linkin Park.  And yes, of course I was jacking with him.  And yes, he learned that term from me. 

I have four more months with this kid, and every day with him is like my favorite holiday--April 1.