Last night you went to dinner at the Glen Rock Inn and were joined by me, Daddy, Alex and Auntie Dawn. You are nearly nine years old (just to give some context to the story if you ever read this years from now). It was Saturday, which meant that the bar was pretty crowded, but we ALWAYS sit at the bar because there is good energy and it is social and it is always an easy time waiting for a table since we tend to know a bunch of people there whenever we go.
So we waited and chatted with people and each other. And then we sat and ordered dinner and drinks and more people came in who we knew and we caught up with them as well. The positive energy enveloped our table like a warm and cozy blanket.
At some point, you started to get tired (because you had been out since 8:30 a.m. when basketball started and hadn't had any time to just rest) and a wee bit cranky (because it's a bar and it's really loud and you were squished away in the corner of the table, oh yes, and you also have a bad cough and are losing your voice). Nonetheless, the rest of us were having a great time and weren't ready to leave.
And then the music started.
Glen Rock Inn has bands come play on Saturday night, some better than others. This was one of the "others", but at least the songs they were choosing were fun - Journey and Tom Petty and Heart. We discovered that if we all sang loud enough at our table, we could pretty much drown out the sub-par singing across the bar. We were singing our hearts out, even Alex, the almost teenager said, "I can really belt it!"
Well Avery, you were mortified! You closed your ears and covered your head with your hood. And our response to that was to laugh and to sing louder. It really was a magical family evening and we have your embarrassment in part to thank for it.
I love you with all my heart. And I look forward with great anticipation for you to join in on our hokey family sing-a-longs.
(before the singing, while we were waiting for a table and you insisted on making crazy faces)