“Are you scared?”
“Are you excited?”
“Well, maybe when you’re sitting there in your robe, and the music is playing – then it will hit you?”
That was the conversation I had with my son this morning, as he relaxed on the couch before rehearsal.
I gazed over at him – I don’t think it’s completely sunk in for me either. The magnitude of tonight.
I know that’s not how I’m feeling about it. And I don’t think he will either when all is said and done.
We had a little hiccup this morning. I was sure he was to be at the event center at 7 am for rehearsal and then from there, over to his Senior Breakfast. I woke him at 6 (relishing the fact that I got to do it one more time) and sent him out the door at 6:30 ish.
Somewhere between coffee and taking the night-time braid out of my hair, the phone rang.
“Are you sure it’s here?”
“Yeah – the event center.”
“No one else is here? The parking lot is empty.”
“Hold on …” I stepped over to the desk, to the index card I had scrawled the dates and times “Oh.” (nervous ‘we’ll laugh about this later giggle’) “It’s 8, not 7.”
“I got up early for this? I’ll be right home.”
Wanted to turn it around “Hey! You’re an ‘adult’ now, remember your own times.” Wanted to, but not enough to do it.
If I can just be his bad time-keeper for a little while longer, I’ll take it.