If I had a nickel for each time the phrase I didn’t know I would be doing this today…ran through my head within the past two months, I would have about $1.35.
My latest nickel was earned yesterday evening as I sat in the minivan, on the fourth deck of the Children’s Hospital parking garage, listening to U2’s documentary about the making of their latest CD, “How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb”. Aidan, Ryley, Sam, and Tommy were in their seats getting to watch the DVD. I was in the driver’s seat, imagining how Bono looked in his sunglasses.
How did the five of us end up in the minivan on the fourth level deck of a parking garage learning about how Larry Mullen Jr. approaches developing the percussion in U2’s songs?
We tagged along on Joel’s big day—-cast removal time had finally arrived. The kids were very excited to witness that historic event. They were enthralled with the idea that a saw would be used to get the cast off. Appointment time was at 4pm. Hubby came home early and we headed downtown.
The waiting room was teeming with casts representing the entire color spectrum. It wasn’t a good sign. The kids grew restless very fast, finding the toys boring, the books boring, and the experience far more boring than anticipated. Where was the saw? Bring on the saw! After 45 minutes we were taken back to a stretcher in a corner and Joel’s cast was taken off. By the time it was removed 10 minutes later, only hubby and I found it fascinating.
We weren’t done, however. His arm still needed to be x-rayed one last time and there were other kids “in line” ahead of Joel. The possibility of spending an unknown amount of time in a tiny corner waiting for an x-ray made me realize what an enormous mistake it was to bring everyone to the unveiling of Joel’s new and improved arm. I offered to take the big kids to the car, thinking there was a “Thomas the Tank Engine” DVD floating around under a seat somewhere. Hubby wasn’t so sure, because he had cleaned out the car. I crossed my fingers that I would find something, anything, for them to watch.
We got to the minivan and everyone climbed in their seats. No “Thomas” DVD. But then I remembered that I had put our U2 CD in the car and that it came with a bonus DVD documentary with three videos. We would watch that!
Tommy’s reaction: “I don’t like cowboy music!”
“It isn’t cowboy music. It’s U2!” I said indignantly. Sheesh.
“I don’t like cowboy music,” he repeated.
I wanted to explain to him that U2’s music is a complicated mix of guitar-driven, but achingly poetic political rock with a soul/blues twist, often employing religious imagery as a nod to their Irish-Catholic roots. But I didn’t.
“It isn’t cowboy music.”
Despite arguing with a three-year-old about musical genre, I was glad I decided to take the kids out of the ortho clinic because it was another half-hour before hubby and a sleeping Joel joined us.
$1.35, and counting…it represents about 1% of the cost of a ticket to watch U2 in concert at the Pepsi Center in April. I could still make it.
Where’s my oversized cake covered in pastel buttercream roses? Where’s my gold watch? Where’s my champagne toast, my wooden plaque, my stack of congratulatory cards and telegrams?