I can clean up puddles of pee-pee
Fry up eggs in a pan
Chase three two year olds ’round in circles til I lose my mind
‘Cause I’m a working triplet momma
But man I feel like Spam
(Set to the tune of your basic blues melody)
This weekend was grueling. Bray had to work 16 hours yesterday, it rained all day, and I was solo with the trio. I had bought tickets to hear Bruce & Kelly at the Mucky Duck but had to sell them since he had to work til midnight. It would have been such a great night for us to sneak in a date. We are both fried. We first met at the Mucky Duck and every blue moon we manage to make it back there.
There’s something about going out. Especially to a concert. You look pretty good. You’re around fun people (or sometimes insane people, but that’s also fun). You get to listen to loud music. And you feel 20 years younger. It reminds you of who you were before kids. I love music and I love concerts. I relayed this fact to my best friend when she came over last night to see the kids before bed (of course they were perfect in her presence, no one believes me that they are treacherous because only Bray and I see it). I begged her to find us a concert to go to because I needed to feel young and fun and carefree and not old and boring and out of touch and frumpy.
While Bray was working today I ran over to one of my precious friend’s house (who has a one year old and a two year old) to swim and give the kids a change of scenery. We were swamping our terrible two year old stories and she said her kids were so bad this weekend that she just ran to Bed, Bath & Beyond so she could get them out of the house. She said, how bad could they bed, they’d be strapped in? I so get that. I took the kids grocery shopping Friday night in the rain just to get out of the house. My kids were so bad this weekend that they skipped naps (except for the angelic baby), had multiple potty accidents, flagrantly shouted NO at any order I gave (this was mainly the willful little lady), and generally melted down. (And I had a migrane – good times!)
That is why concerts rock. (Literally and figuratively.) They are NOT the grocery store or Bed, Bath & Beyond. They are not suburban. They are NOT kid friendly. Twenty year olds don’t go buy more organic millk or new shower curtains at concerts. Shows never start at 6 pm. They are dark and loud and young (unless maybe you’re going to see James Taylor or something).
I am in serious need of a concert. Drop me a line if you know of a good one coming to Houston. I’m overdue……..anything but the blues.
Leave a Reply