Well, I think we can say that Thing 2’s AC/DC-Rocking Spring Tour 2016 has been cancelled. This morning, I opened his closet door, and behold! There before me, on the floor, were one thousand, three hundred, twenty-nine Matchbox cars. This became an issue on the table, because Mama distinctly, and with careful enunciation, announced last night that those cars should be placed in the giant, made-to-look-just-like-a-tire, zippered, car-storing bag, but… alas. The bag stood empty this morning, shoved toward the back of our son’s closet, while all of the cars had been slid into one enormous heap, in the front of the closet, and boom!
Doors shut! Ma will never be the wiser.
Except I have finally learned that YES, VIRGINIA! Mothers will find everything out eventually, because there comes a time in a young man’s life, when his mother will have to get him a shirt to wear from the hangers in his closet, which he cannot reach without standing on a stool. That moment happened early this morning, when it was time to dress the child for preschool.
And there were the Matchbox cars.
All of them.
In a heap.
I asked, “What happened to putting these in the bag last night?” Thing 2 replied, “I think Bubbie did that.”
Do you know how many times the boy (aka, Bubbie) has cleaned Thing 2’s bedroom?
Never times. It’s difficult enough getting the boy to clean his OWN room.
So, the consequences have fallen, and we will NOT be needing the tour bus with our name emblazoned in glittery, metallic paint on the side, because Mama shut the tour down. However, for his fan club, his mother (who is also his agent) has released a video of a very recent concert.
Two weeks ago (which indicates that I’m failing as a mother for not blogging about it sooner and recording it in the online history of our family for future generations), the kids’ Sunday School classes put on a little concert for our congregation, with some songs that they had learned.
I cannot lie.
I was a bit apprehensive to put Thing 2 on stage, in front of the entire congregation, and all the God-fearing, Jesus-loving elderly women, with Bibles that are falling apart and callouses on their knees from constant prayer, because how would they react when our child grabbed himself a microphone, AS HE HAS DONE IN THE PAST, and put on a show that Taylor Swift could never compete with?
This is what we commonly refer to as THE PRAISE TEAM INCIDENT, when Thing 2 actually stormed the stage while our Praise Team led songs at Vacation Bible School last summer:
He was SUPPOSED TO BE in the audience, singing with all the other children, as well-behaved, Christian kids do, but our boy saw an opportunity to perform, and he saw an available mic, and there was no stopping him. He took the stage by force, and mixed in with the band.
So clearly you can see why my nerves felt like I’d made my espresso with a Red Bull instead of water, when Thing 2’s Sunday School teacher said, “Yes! Put him on stage with the kids! I can hardly wait!”
Against our better judgement, Hubs and I did. We sent him to perform, and then we sat down in the congregation and hoped we weren’t about to get a viral video entitled WHEN THINGS EXPLODE BADLY ON STAGE.
Oh! There were a few seconds in there when we all gasped audibly, as Thing 2 LEFT HIS SPOT and worked his way through the choir. I know that my hand flew to cover my mouth, in my shock and worry, because all I could think was HE IS GOING FOR THE DRUMS AT THE BACK OF THE STAGE! HE IS GOING TO DRUM THIS ONE UP HUGE!!!
But he didn’t. He just saw his good buddy, Josh, who is a few years older than Thing 2 is, standing behind him, and he told us after the concert, “I just wanted to stand with Josh to sing.”
We dodged a grenade there.
So without further ado, here is part of the simple concert that we pulled off so well this time around:
After the concert was finished, our dear friend Abbey, who is Josh’s mother and who was also singing on stage for VBS the night Thing 2 charged up there with a microphone, stopped us and said, “Oh, man! I thought for sure we were going to have some drums in that song this morning! I couldn’t watch anyone else EXCEPT Thing 2 when he left his spot up front!”
Abbey and I know him well, and our minds both went to the same spot. For our beloved elderly members of our church’s congregation, I’m so glad that Thing 2 didn’t gain access to the drums and show them what he’s learned from old Def Leppard concert videos.
On another musical note (Did you like that transition pun?!), the boy also had a concert a couple of weeks ago. The boy, though, is very well behaved on stage, and he would never make a crazy-mad dash for a drum set, when it wasn’t called for in his concert script. He doesn’t have the concert FLAIR that his younger brother has.
The boy’s high school band director is VERY STRICT with what the kids wear during concerts. Black shoes. Black socks. Black pants or skirts. White shirt. Black tie. THERE WILL BE ZERO EXCEPTIONS, OR YOUR REPORT CARD WILL SUFFER.
And that’s why Mama had a whole lot of ironing to do that night, because who wants to lose their 4.0 GPA over the wrong socks? White shirts and black pants have to be pressed and creased, PER THE BAND TEACHER, so I stood at my ironing board like I was June Cleaver, getting my HOUSEWIFE on.
I think my big kid cleaned up pretty nicely. His mama thinks he’s more handsome than any other teenage boy this side of the Mississippi River.
Getting pictures of the boy during a band concert is impossible. As soon as they start playing, the giant, black music stands are pulled forward, and that’s all you see. You no longer see their faces, as you get to gaze upon the backside of a metal stand that’s very busy holding their music, while simultaneously blocking their cute faces from the crowd.
The trick is that you have to snag a few snapshots with your camera BEFORE the music starts.
Apparently, Hubs and I are raising musical prodigies, when we have zero-point-zero musical talent ourselves. Thankfully, we know when to clap and whistle at a concert’s end, so we cheer our boys on in their musical endeavors like mad people.
We’re pretty stinking proud of both of them.
Have a happy weekend, y’all.