First we had to get past the fact that the music was too loud for my old man dear husband. Seriously? You should HEAR how loudly my husband plays his production...or the TV. Yet he finds the concert too loud? Wimp! Just in case, I think next time we'll bring the ear protection he uses when he goes shooting. Then he won't have to hear a thing!
After we got past the hearing issue, there was the dancing.
No. Not my husband's.
Mine.
And THAT was the problem.
Apparently he thought I was kidding or going through a phase when I danced at concerts while we were dating and first married. He thought it was a fluke that I was rocking out to Veggie Tales live with the kids. He thought perhaps I was just having a momentary lapse of sanity when I turned the music up & danced through the house.
Every weekend.
Or maybe he just hoped, prayed, and dreamed that one day I would no longer desire to dance to music. At the least, he held hope that I had not passed that gene down to our children. He found out at this concert that we are a hopeless bunch. We all like to dance. We may or may not be in rhythm. That's really irrelevant to us. We just like to have fun!
Unfortunately for him.
We know he loves us, he just doesn't know what to do with us sometimes. Like when we're embarrassing him at a concert and he can't hide in the crowd because no one could hide in the crowd when we're beside them dancing and singing.
If you ever want to know where we are seated at a concert, just look around. When you see the man with heavy, sound-proof headphones on looking around trying to pretend that he doesn't know the woman and children dancing crazily beside him; you'll know you've found us.
Come up & say hi to us. (Be sure to say hi to our fuddy-duddy too.)
Kirstie took a ton of pics on her phone. This is the only one I'm authorized to share:
Kirstie with Jenny from Addison Road
