Life Marches On

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...and so it happens that I pick up my daughter at her high school following the Symphonic Band spring concert. Typical pleasantries from a dad seeking to stir trouble:

"good concert?"
"miss any notes?"
"anyone screw up?"

But now, following an unwelcome announcement upon the return of the band from a trip to Chicago a couple weeks ago (long bus trips and teenagers...bad!), I'm forced to politely ask, "and how was Dennis?"

Dennis is her first boyfriend, which in my vocabulary, is translated "snot-nosed brat teenager." Her reply was a wide smile that up until then had surely been reserved throughout her entire life only for Dad.


That same Chicago bus trip was to have arrived back at midnight. My wife and I were in Las Vegas for a wholesale craft show, so the in-laws were picking her up. They had a phone call saying that the buses were running late and would return around 1:00 a.m. My father-in-law, bless him, went to pick her up. And waited. And waited. Until 2:30 a.m. when they finally rolled in.

The reason? The seniors (just the guys, of course) in the drum line decided to have a contest! (Seniors =mature, right?). They all took ex-lax, with the contest of wills being who could hold it the longest. Did I mention they arrived 2.5 hours late?

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