Growing up, I always knew she was the coolest mom on the block.
All the neighbor kids would come over to see her hula-hoop. She was legendary. The hoop never fell. Never.
And she could play Ms. Pacman on the Atari until her hands were blistered. No level was too difficult, no ghost too quick for her. She beat the game. Every. Time.
In Kid World, those two talents made her a superstar.
I'm still struggling to keep up with her. She's tweeting, Facebooking, and mastering every app on the planet for her smart phone. She's even listening to my music. (It's just bizarre to come to your mom's for lunch and hear Coldplay streaming from the stereo.)
But now, her cool points have skyrocketed. My mom's piano music is on iTunes. Find it here and here. It's also on Amazon.com. Go here and here.
What will she conquer next? Did I mention she recently got an electric guitar? (I think all those Guitar Hero whoopin's against dad finally went to her head.)
She claims she won't get serious about learning guitar until there are no grandbabies left to hold.
Not sure I believe her. More probable: she'll be playing Chris Martin's "Fix You" guitar solo by Christmas. Rock on, mom. Rock on.