Things To Talk About At 3am...

Is anybody awake out there? Bored Mommy is bored.
We're all getting over the flu. Well, except for the teenager. He's magically symptom free. I think I'm going to start calling him Typhoid Mary. Evie is now onto the nasty nighttime cough stage of the flu-game. Yay for no fever or difficulty breathing but it's definitely impacting our ability to sleep. She's down on the floor next to me, dozing on her Sofia the First fold out sofa as I type this.

Excuse me as I go fetch another cup o' joe.

Okay. I'm back.

Did I ever tell you about the time I took my eldest to see Eric Idle perform? She was 13 at the time. I opened the Rutland Herald that morning to discover that he would be performing at the Paramount because, well, Rutland. *snigger*

*Image of Eric Idle taken the night of the show.
*Photo Credit: "Eric Idle" by VTscapes - Tom E. Canavan 

When I asked Charlotte if she wanted to go, our conversation went something like this:
Me: "Do you want to go see Eric Idle in Rutland tonight?!"
Charlotte: "Um...the name sounds familiar...who?"
Me: "Sir Robin?"
Charlotte: "YES!" *SQUEE*
Me: *SQUEE*

And there was much rejoicing.

I don't remember much about the first part of the show beyond feeling great pride that my child, sitting there next to me, could happily and accurately sing along with The Galaxy Song but then it happened.
The barbershop quartet filed out.
A wave of horror washed over me as I shrank down into my seat.
How did I forget that Sit On My Face (And Tell Me That You Love Me) was a thing?!
The audience exploded and sang along so loudly that I hoped the words would be a jumbled blur for my daughter. I couldn't bring myself to so much as glance over at her. I wouldn't be surprised if I held my breath through the entire song.
And then it was over. I peeked over at Charlotte and her expression was impassive. "Could be worse", I thought.
At that moment Mr Idle shouted something about how we could do better and a couple stagehands wheeled out a massive board with painted lyrics.
Fuck.
They did it again. I had resigned myself to missing out on the Mother of the Year award for 2003.
On the long drive home I apologized. I explained that I forgot that song existed and hoped she wasn't too embarrassed. Her response?
"Oh, I've heard it before. It's on your Monty Python CD."





 I think about these things as she will be moving far away very soon. Okay, so by 'far away' I mean 'two hours away' but it might as well be the moon. Evie loves a good, long car ride so that's no deterrent but it's quite tricky to take her into non-Evieproofed space. The last time we went to someone else's house she got the exciting idea to open the large, glass curio cabinet and sit her butt down on a shelf of treasures. *twitch* Somehow nothing got broken so, yes, while I do believe in miracles I don't believe they happen regularly so I keep her butt away from other people's stuff as much as I can. Especially other people's stuff that we can't afford to replace.
So, yeah. One is married and moving away and the next in line has his head off at college already. He's only a Junior but there is the possibility of him going off next year to a special program at the tech college he wants to attend. I'm determined to not freak out until everything is set in stone, though. Heh. *sigh* 
But, hey! I still have several years of Evie raising ahead of me. While I will never have the opportunity to take her to see an ex Python singing obscene songs, I have discovered that she enjoys going to the movies. That's something we will do at every opportunity. We just have to kick this flu crudbug first.