Observing Blake has always been a favorite pastime of mine. I love to sit back and watch him when he’s unaware he’s being observed. Those are the best times. Like when he’s working on a new song or cleaning his gun… Anything that comes so naturally to him is a pleasure to watch.
However, he’s almost as much fun when he knows he’s being watched, like when he’s on stage performing. He really knows how to drive the hormonal teenage girls crazy, along with their undersexed middle-aged mothers. But what am I saying since he knows just how to drive me crazy too (sexually and temperamentally…). If nothing else, he knows how to play to his strengths. And play them up as much as possible.
I’m constantly amazed at how much Rory is like him, even at such a young age. They both have a habit of tilting their heads just slightly when they’re concentrating on something. Wish I knew if the tapping of the fingers while thinking was something Rory inherited from his father or just something he’s picked up, but either way, it drives me nuts. Just one more reason to love that little boy even more, I guess. And to watch that toddler boy pretend to give a concert is just the scariest and most hysterical thing ever. He is entirely too much his father’s son, I’m thinking. But, that’s not completely a bad thing.
So, with all that in mind, when Blake asked me to accompany him to a photo shoot for his new record label (YAY! He’ll stop driving me SO nuts), I had to say yes. I often get the chance to watch him doing something he knows and loves, but rarely do I get to watch him while he’s rather out of his element. He made me promise because it’s not something that he’s comfortable with and, silly boy, thought I’d be good for a little moral support.
Oh, damn. Was I supposed to be supportive? I think I forgot…
So, when the day came, I managed to arrange someone (i. e. I blackmailed Billy) to watch the little ones so I could go and be supportive for the biggest kid in the family. Sounds simple enough, right? Yeah. Not so much.
Blake dressed in his finest hick – new but weathered blue jeans, freshly ironed green flannel, the same old beat up boots and his new hat. Yeah, he’s been neglecting the hat lately, so he bought a new one and wanted to take it for a test drive. His words, not mine. I had no choice but to shake my head and hope that the people taking the pictures had better taste than he did.
In that, at least, I got lucky. When we arrived, he was immediately escorted to wardrobe. Therein, he was made to don a rather sexy pair of rust-colored denim pants, topped off with a plain white button-up shirt that sported a matching rust-colored spray of ‘ink’ across the front. He was encouraged to leave the top several buttons undone, not something he was all that trilled about, but I have to say… me likey. I’m not sure if it was an attempt to add insult to injury or to just heighten his level of discomfort, but they insisted he stay barefoot for the shoot. Gotta admit, that was a cute touch. Even with his big-ass gunboat feet.
When the stylist approached and attempted to muss his hair, he balked. And this, I suppose, is why he made me come along. So, I intervened and ruffled his cute little curls myself, until the stylist was satisfied. He still wasn’t thrilled, but was much happier to know a strange man wasn’t about to put his fingers into his hair.
And all this time, I thought he liked that!
But I digress.
I have never been as entertained in all my life as I was watching him treated like a Barbie doll during this photo shoot. “Mr. Matson, please turn your head. No, like this.” And then these conversations were always followed by a deep sigh from the photographer as he leaves the camera to come over and physically adjust Blake’s position himself. To Blake’s credit, he finally seemed to get it, most likely out of fear, when the photog’s assistant tried to adjust the position of his hips in a certain shot. I couldn’t help myself; I burst out into laughter with how fast that man of mine moved to get away from the assistant.
But Blake’s a real sport about most things and, by the end of the shoot he was not only joking with the photographer but flirting with his male assistant. See? I knew he had it in him. And to be completely honest, I think that he was having fun soaking up all the attention they lavished on him. Nah, no conceit in OUR family… not at all… my husband has it all.
Oh stop looking at me that way, you so know it’s true.
And now, my only complaint is that he’s strutting around like a rooster in a coop full of hens… Yeah, okay, so I know he’s hot, but does he have to believe it so thoroughly himself? Can’t a girl get a break? Even better is watching Rory adopt his father’s newly energized strut, tossing his tiny hips around and grinning like a mini-rooster.
Sigh.
Now, my only question is… how long before Rayna develops MY long-suffering sigh and starts directing it at her brother? Or, better yet… her father. Now that will have to be something I get on video…
Yeah, I ‘m bad, but you love me for it anyway. Serves ‘em both right.
