I think that I’m going to have to play my GET OUT OF THE BLOG FREE card tonight.
Yes. Even though I played that very same card last night.
It’s because the boy came home from school yesterday and announced, “As part of our assignment in band, we have to teach one of our parents to play our instrument. You have to fill this paper out, Mom; you have to check whether you are willing to participate, and play in the upcoming concert, or whether you don’t want to participate.”
Well, that was certainly a no-brainer.
I did not want to participate. Where should I sign?
So the boy asked Hubs.
And he struck out again, because Hubs only plays air guitar when Metallica is blasting out of the iPod.
And that, people, is how I came to be enrolled in 6th grade beginning band class, where I will now learn to play the clarinet and perform a song ON THE STAGE, IN FRONT OF A REAL AUDIENCE OF OTHER PARENTS in May. It’s because I couldn’t take the look the boy had… the one which is similar to MY PUPPY JUST DIED. I cannot even tell you HOW THRILLED I am to know that I have a concert coming up! I don’t know where this new-age form of teaching band came from, but I prefer the archaic method, where the student learns the clarinet for a grade on his report card, and Mama just puts on her best scarf and uses the hot rollers and goes to watch all of the kids play Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star together. And then she goes home, perhaps after she’s had some of the juice and cookies that the band teacher put out, because he felt led by the Holy Spirit to do so.
(And we all know that Kellen’s mama is going to rock her didgeridoo lessons, and I’ll probably be seated next to her. I have to shine, people! I can’t be outdone. Band just went competitive.)
So between the clarinet practicing and the wine I needed for it last night, I developed a severe case of writer’s block and decided I had no words to sum up my day with on the old blog.
I know. That was a first.
So I skipped the blog post last night, and I watched Duck Dynasty with my boys on TV, until the boy announced, “Mom? You look just like Miss Kay today in the sweater you’re wearing.”
What?! Because my sweater has a big cowl neck, I look like a redneck mother from the deep South?
The boy tried to dig his way out of the hole he’d fallen into by saying, “Miss Kay is great, Mom! She’s pretty decent looking and she cooks good food!”
And then he paused…
…before he said, “Well, I probably wouldn’t eat half of the stuff she cooks, because it sounds pretty gross. But your sweater looks just like one Miss Kay would wear!”
So there you have it, people.
My sweater of yesterday makes me look like Miss Kay (Bless her heart!), and I have to practice my clarinet. I also need my rest, because Thing 2 has upped his energy these days. He’s like a hobbit on Red Bulls, and I pity the poor woman who has to chase him around all day.
Oh. Wait. That would be me..
Y’all have a happy weekend.