Middlest is in a marching band. Every Thursday the parents are invited to go to the last 15 minutes of practice where we are treated to a complete run through of the show to the point it is finished. I asked my dad if he wanted to attend one this year and he said yes. When I called him today at lunch to make certain he still wanted to come, our conversation went like this:
Me: “I will be there to get you about 8:20.”
Dad: “At night?!”
Me. “Yes, at night. Do you still want to go?”
Dad: “Well, I do go to bed at 7:30.”
Needless to say, my dad will be skipping practice tonight. I can’t blame him. He is 81 and gets up at zero dark thirty every morning. The funny thing is, when I told Middlest I was bringing Bodie to watch her, she said, “but he goes to bed at 7:30.” She knew. I am glad that I am still willing and able to stay out after dark on occasion. I am not ready to eat dinner at 4:30 p.m. yet.