I'm not sure whether to be mortified or proud that I've apparently created a budding fangirl. A six-year-old one, who told me today in the car (as we listened to Panic at the Disco on the way to the bookstore) that she would LOVE to meet the guys in the band. She's also announced to her father and her brother several times that she is a "Brendon fan, you know," when a Panic song comes on. (For those not in the know, Brendon is the lead singer. She likes to make sure it's Brendon singing, and sometimes has to check with me to make sure it's not Fall Out Boy, with Patrick Stump singing instead, because "they sound a lot the same, Mommy.")
She wouldn't have any idea about either band if it weren't for me, is the thing. And part of me knows I'm not exactly in their target demographic.
But then the other part of me (who likes to swoon a bit over Brendon's voice and snarl out Pete Wentz's lyrics, turned way up loud) says, "Screw it." And the six-year-old and I go back to dancing to "Sugar, We're Going Down."