Last night was Hannah's middle school band concert.
There are so many other things in life I would rather do than attend
a middle school band concert.
To name a few: have a painful root canal,
go in for an annual girley exam,
have my toenails clipped in a public place by a stranger,
or go to an all day insurance seminar and sit in the front row.
Band is David's thing.
Band is David's requirement.
I love to be with my girl and support every little thing she does,
but the ONLY reason I went last night was because I did not want
to be a bad mother. The no show.
The "my Mom is at home stuffing her face with bonbons,
'cuz she'd rather not step foot in this auditorium to hear our band"
kind of bad mom.
So how did I manage?
A little friend of mine named David Sedaris.
I sat in that awful auditorium with my ear buds in
listening to "When You Are Engulfed in Flames" loving
every minute of the concert.
I heard the music as background music to my very enjoyable book.
I just had to listen to a chapter that didn't make me laugh out loud,
as I am known to do when listening to Sedaris.
I saw my girl preform. I clapped in all the right places.
I took pictures.
I am not a bad mother.
When it was over, on the way home, I commented how short
the concert seemed this year and how quickly
the evening seemed to pass.
David just looked at me and rolled his eyes.