It’s the middle of the night. Your kid’s been crying her ass off for hours, and you haven’t slept a wink since 5 AM the previous morning. WHAT CAN YOU DO?
You need a true professional to take the wheel. You need to ask yourself: What would Lemmy Kilmister of Motörhead do if he were in your shoes? It’s time to strap on your cowboys boots and find out!
Born to Raise Hell
Lemmy’s been on the scene a while now, so it’s safe to assume he probably knows a thing or two about babysitting. No doubt he’d know how some babies get sleepy when driven around the block, so he’d bust through the walls of the bedroom in a big white limousine. Your kid would be startled at first, but then she’d notice the friendly mutton chops, genial grin, and trademark Rickenbacker bass.
After buckling your kid up in a chromium steel car seat, Lemmy would start cruising around the block with one hand on the steering wheel, the other on a bottle of Jack. The constant motion as he careens around the block, combined with the screech of the wheels – not to mention “Ace of Spades” blaring from the speakers – would begin to lull your kid into a deep sleep. That is, until Lemmy pulls over to the local strip bar.
While Lemmy’s getting a lapdance or two, your kid has probably woken up again, and she’s feeling kind of peckish. Although there are plenty of ladies around who could help out, Lemmy’s not one to be outdone. No doubt he had the foresight to bring plenty of milk bottles from your home (or formula, if you’re into that), and now it’s time to start tanking the kid up.
Lemmy knows there’s tryptophan in milk, which will get your kid dreary enough for a nice long nap. There’s no better drinking partner than Lemmy. He really knows how to toss ‘em back, and it’s this skill that he’ll apply to getting your kid nice and sloshed. Shots of Jack Daniels and bottles of milk will flow, and when they’re both good and tanked, it’ll be time for the final phase.
Nightmare, The Dreamtime
After all that, your kid will finally be ready to go down for a nap. Who are we kidding, Lemmy will as well (he’s going to be 70 in December). So Lemmy will break out the ‘ol Rickenbacker and warm up the vocal cords to serenade your kid to sleep. Your kid will start drifting off to the melancholy of “1916,” lulled by the soothing synths and snare marches. Sure, the lyrics are pretty grim, depicting the horrors of war for a child soldier, but she can’t understand them. What’s important is that finally, finally, she’s asleep.
But then Lemmy will probably get bored of all that slow-tempo bollocks. Motörhead hasn’t been in the business for this long by playing ballads. Your kid might start to protest in the change in decibels, but Lemmy will play “I’m So Bad (Baby I Don’t Care)” to show your kid who’s boss. If she starts crying, “Deaf Forever” will let her know what he thinks of that. And of course he’ll play “Ace of Spades” again because, well, just because.
Jesus. When it comes to getting kids to sleep, Lemmy seems like a psychopath. Maybe he’s better off just being a killer frontman, he’s still got a couple good decades in him. Whatever you’re doing to put your kid to sleep has got to be better than this. Take heart that, compared to Lemmy of Motörhead, you’re probably doing just fine. Just hang in there, and all the guts and glory will be yours.