My husband makes his guest blogging debut below -- enjoy!
Clear eyes, wet butts. Can't lose.
A few weeks ago, I was hanging out full-time with the Hot Toddie [a.k.a. The Bug], and we decided, after some discussion, to check out the kids' music concert at our local park. It was a nice summer day, and a band was performing that had the under-four-years-old set amped up. The Hot Toddie begged me to let him bring his bootlegging equipment, but I was like, “nah, save it for Rolie Polie Guacamole.” He was like, “Dump truck!” Cool.
We headed out. Did I mention how nice it was outside? 85, no clouds, dry as a mouthful of cheerios. (Of course, as I write this, I am sweating, and it is 9 o’clock at night, so that may be why I am fixated on how amazingly nice the weather was that day.) In any event, I was pretty impressed with the time we were making since the Hot Toddie had climbed right in his stroller without the usual struggle that I can only compare to the time that I tried to force a half-badger/half-freshwater-eel into the backseat of a two door Honda Civic. We even had time to stop and get an iced coffee from the local coffee place that sells a five-dollar small iced coffee. Five dollars is a reasonable price to pay for a small iced coffee, right? No? Even if it's cold brew? Okay.
We made it up to the top of the hill at the park early, and we were one of the first twenty or so families there -- headed by 87% nannies, 12% moms, and 1 dad. Me.
I got us a nice shady spot, and the Hot Toddie watched the band set up their equipment. He noticed the stand-up bass, and we both agreed it was a nice touch. Soon the lawn was filling up with over 200 nannies and moms, and I couldn’t help but notice that they all had blankets to sit on and spread snacks out on. They all had them. My initial response was to justify sitting on the ground (which was starting to make our butts wet) by thinking that all those blankets were just a bit too precious. City kids need more wet, dirty, uncomfortable places to sit, not fewer! However, after 20-30 minutes, it was clear to me that a blanket is an essential piece of equipment for an hour long kids' concert. I would have stood, but the adults were specifically told not to -- out of respect for the shorter fans.
About half way through the show, I saw the only other dad and his daughter rocking out to a song about spaghetti, both with wet, dirty butts. I was not alone.