Weeks have been soaring by with hardly a word from our 1st grader about his First Grade Concert. While friends at the bus stop playground would practice singing a line or bustin’ a move, our boy would give wide-eyed looks followed quickly by a fervent “shhhhhh!” and a fiercely whispered, “It’s supposed to be a SURPRISE!!”
Even when we’d pull out the reminder papers from his homework folder of when to be where and what they should wear, he skirted the issue and changed the subject. But we knew it was gonna good…just like last time.
We planned strategically, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to belly slide along the floor this time and take pictures down in front. Instead, I knew would be hanging back in position like a sniper, and we waited for our neighbors across the street to show signs of leaving for the concert since we had noticed their strategic sitting spot at the last gig (they have video equipment, including a tripod setup. Hard core.). When we saw signs of them leaving, we knew to do the same.
We were about 30 minutes early.
And we were not the first ones there.
This might get ugly in the future, just so you know. Like throwing elbows and stuff. Ha.
As the classes filed in, there were craning 1st-grader necks of all heights and lots of “Where’s my mom and dad?!” as they tried to settle in, and just as many little brothers and sisters and moms and dads half standing out of their seats to wave and whistle and try to help their kiddos find them.
Um. We did that, too. And guess what we got in return?
The I see you face. Which is…pure awesomeness.
The program included all kinds of songs about stars.
And the songs also contained all kinds of lisping and random soft, accidental whistles due to the wide selection of missing teeth.
It was like Concert of the Ozarks.
This song, in particular, was something about moose and fish and maybe something else. I was laughing and couldn’t hear them.
And then they politely shook hands. Sort of.
Then something alarming happened. I think I saw this in a movie once and it ended poorly. I’m always nervous when I hear gloves snap on. Oh. But not as nervous as Hank.
This little tune held some intensity, especially with no teeth to hold his tongue in during some parts of the song. Sthong.
We weren’t sure what to prepare for at this point…
And then boom.
Major jazz hands. I’m still not sure what happened. It wasn’t Michael Jackson. It wasn’t Broadway. But everything suddenly went dark and there were floating hands everywhere.
And then, ever so harshly, the lights popped back up and we were left blinded momentarily. When our ability to focus came through, it was on this.
Omalord. I think this one was, “Here comes the sun.” And that last picture there on the right? That was a yawn, not “mid-verse” anything.
It was followed by this.
When asked about the concert afterward, he said that he had a blast.
Although I think that Hank and I had even more fun than him. We are officially converted to Concertism.
I leave you with this:
Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier.