I have a niece who performs in a country music revue in Eureka Springs.  She is  the only female vocalist and performs comedy routines as well.  I admit I am not a big fan of country music, however I try to go see her once a year or so.  Well, on Friday I had The Precious.  His mommy needed a girl’s night, so I told her I would gladly keep him.  I decided to take him to the show and I asked mother to join us. 

He was fine on the trip over.  He commented on all the cows we saw along the way.  He noticed the barns, and the tractors.  He pointed out each and every big truck, and chattered like a little monkey…all from his car seat in the back.  He was more than ready to get out of the car when we arrived.  He trotted his stocky little body straight up to the entrance and through the doors.  He headed straight for the auditorium and looked inside.  He promptly screamed “No” and ran right back out the same doors he had run through seconds earlier.  Of course I ran after him.  We went out onto the deck that is just to the left of the entrance and discussed what was going on.  I mentioned several times that there would be a piano, some drums, and that my niece (whom for the sake of privacy we shall call Betsy) was going to sing.  My sister arrived and came over to talk to The Precious and I.  He was very friendly until she asked if he was going to see “Betsy” sing.  “No” he said.  Betsy came out to see us and was playing with The Precious.  “Did you come to see me sing?”  “No” he said, and this time he promptly ran out into the parking lot looking for the car.  Finally I caught him and we had a little talk.  “We’re going to go into the show now.  We aren’t going to cry.  You can put your head on my shoulder and you don’t have to look at anyone…but remember we aren’t going to cry.”  He bravely took my hand and we went into the theatre.  As soon as the lights went down he crawled up onto my shoulder.  Every time the emcee would speak he would clutch me a little tighter.  Within minutes he was sound asleep.  Nothing woke him up until intermission.  I guess it was the lights that woke him up.  He took about one second to look around and then he took over.  He spoke to the gentleman across the aisle.  He wanted to go see Betsy.  He spoke to everyone who walked by.  He decided he wanted ice-cream and charmed the lady at the counter into making it a freebie.  He walked back down to our seats like he owned the place.  When the show started again he stood up on my lap and screamed “Hi, Betsy” and he also yelled at the comedian for the show.  “HI, Peanut!”  He clapped and ran his Budin’ up and down the aisle and along the back of the chair in front of us (which was empty).  When the show was over he wanted to go down to the stage and shake hands.  When all was said and done he was in the middle of a crowd of band members and Betsy and Peanut.  He had become the show.   He performed.  He did everything that was asked of him.  He shook his booty.  He raised the roof.  He was the star, but when I asked him to tell them how Emmy’s car went he did his usual double shift growl and then he shrieked like stomped brakes and yelled “crash!”  I have no idea where that came from.  My brakes don’t screech and I have never crashed…in that car.  Finally the drummer asked him if he enjoyed the show.  “No” he said and he walked out the door.  I reminded him that under 8 and over 80 have no filters.

All in all we had a great time.  I couldn’t wait to tell his mom how good he had been.  I tried to buy souvenir T-shirts for The Precious and myself but Betsy wouldn’t have it.  We got the t-shirts, but I didn’t get to buy them.  I still don’t get why she wouldn’t let me pay for them.  The last thing I gave her was the recipe to my key lime cookies.  You would think she would have at least held out until I promised to actually bake her the cookies again.  Yes, she is a real blonde…not as blonde as she appears, but real.  Anyway…back to the ride home.  I put The Precious in his Budin’ jammies, I poured him a cup of chocolate milk (I had brought a cooler just for the milk), and I turned Thomas the Tank Engine on the computer for him to watch.  He was thoroughly engrossed in his movie and sucking down milk like a bulimic mosquito when I heard a choking noise from the backseat.  I looked back to see chocolate milk pouring out of The Precious.  It was coming out of his nose, his mouth, and I think a little may have been in his ears.  I stopped the car.  I cleaned him up as best I could, I took off his jammies and put his new t-shirt on him, I cleaned the car seat with the intention of putting him back in it.  It wasn’t going to happen.  The seat was just too nasty to put him in, plus he screamed each time I tried to let go of him.  Needless to say, mother drove home and I held The Precious. 

There is a reason my mother doesn’t drive after dark.  She can’t.  She barely drove the speed limit.  She weaved back and forth on the road.  She would jerk the wheel suddenly and for no reason.  All of this was accompanied with “am I making you nervous?”  I wanted to scream “Hell yes.  Plus you are going to make the kid puke again.”  However I lied and said “no”.  We finally made it to The Precious’s house.  My mother was telling the kids about all that had happened and the last thing I heard was “I think if she doesn’t mind I will let her drive home.”  Mind?  Are you kidding?  I had every intention of driving home…or walking.  Thankfully it looked like I was going to get to drive.  I remember how much my parent’s hated giving us driving lessons…the worm has turned.

Aside from the puking I think a good time was had by all.  I knew my niece could sing…I didn’t know she was funny.  I was impressed with how well The Precious did, and other than mother thinking the band didn’t comment enough on her “fresh apple cake” things seemed pretty good.  My non-vag. daughter got her night out.  I got to show off The Precious.  Betsy got to showcase her talent, and granny got to receive kudos on her cake.  The only one who might have gotten left out was my sister.  In case she did…your daughter was delightful as always.  Thank you so much for the un-eaten hot dog and the soda.  You are a super, great aunt.  The Precious and I both love you very much.  If you need more than that you probably should get mom’s cake recipe.