Some days I think my kids actively try to make me look like the worst parent on the planet. And they are extremely gifted at doing so.
Last night I tried to take the whole kit and caboodle to an outdoor concert. My husband plays in the band so, I figured the kids would get a kick out of seeing Daddy with his horn. It was in a pleasant little park that attracts every person over the age of 70 in the county. Good times!
I thought I was so prepared. I had blankets to sit on, juice boxes, snack bags of cereal, bananas, and a couple quiet toys. We got there and the kids put out their blankets and tucked in to the snacks.
5 minutes later, the snacks are gone and it’s still about 20 minutes until the start of the concert. I wasn’t concerned yet because I had this dream that they would run around, wear each other out and then plop on the blankets for the start of the concert. I clearly forgot that all this “It’s summer! Go outside and play!” garbage I have been spewing has given them some wicked stamina.
The concert is about to start. Foodie is shouting greetings to her father, Cereal Killer and Rain Man are rolling around in the blankets, wrestling, and jumping off of the park benches. I am pretending I don’t notice 150 elderly people giving me the stink eye. And, of course it’s made 100 times worse because the only other little kids there are like freakishly well-behaved. Compare and contrast. Ug.
It only got worse from there. Cereal Killer was like a human tornado with his constant movement. He was banging rocks against the flag pole, trying to rip leaves off trees, attempting to sneak on to the stage with the band. (Those timpani looked mighty tempting…) If cave men were given crystal meth, I imagine they would have behaved similarly to Cereal Killer.
Rain Man was slightly, slightly more well-behaved. He was more like a stoned cave man. He was begging for snacks and running around aimlessly while giggling. He runs like a Great Dane which is pretty funny and cute….when it isn’t happening right in front of the bandstand.
Foodie, while excessively cute, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She kept creeping up to the stage, sitting on it, and then getting a sneaky look on her face. I never found out what that look was going to turn in to because I would army crawl to the stage and smuggle her back to our bench before she could follow through with her master plan. I suspect it involved offing the conductor and then leading the band for the rest of the concert herself but, the world will never know for sure. Eventually she tired of having her plans foiled so, she left.
She just got up and started running down the sidewalk.
That kid is joining the track team because she is fast. By the time I caught her, she had traveled an entire block and was merrily trotting across the street. That was IT for me. I gathered her up and threw her in the car. The twins saw how close they were to being donated to charity so they wisely followed along and joined Foodie in the backseat.
We spent the next 30 minutes listening to the music, muffled through the car windows. I was less than impressed.
When the concert was over, I had to do the walk of shame to pick up our blankets and toys. The band members wouldn’t look at me, the old people insisted on looking at me, and the priest sitting behind me was just shaking his head.
So, one can safely assume I will no longer be bringing the children to concerts. Unless we are all allowed to be sedated. Myself definitely included.