Dude, its 7th grade band, not free tickets to the NY Philharmonic!

Okay so tonight was Rice's production of Beethoven and Burritos, and Emily's Concert Maroon Band was performing. Jerry had to teach class, so I was flying solo…with "the boy". It wasn't starting off very good, Ethan was doing the whole "I'm just not that into you" game where I try to give him hugs and kisses and he gives me the cold shoulder. If I'm really lucky, he might even swat at me, or flat out scream no at me, but usually he just refuses to look at me. Good times. Emily has to be at school early, so I leave to drop her off. As I am walking out the door, my beloved husband yells out at me "where are you going?" Really? Where am I going? Have we not had this conversation TEN THOUSAND times? With an eye roll and a sigh, I'm out the door.
I drop Emily off at the curb, then race back home praying my son is in love with me again. Leaving the car running and doors open (would it be such a bad thing if someone stole the mini? I think not…), I run into the house grabbing food and diapers and wipes oh my! Hubby grabs the kid, we get him shoved into the car and off I go!
This is the part where he starts randomly pointing at things and in his very demanding albeit adorable almost 3 year old voice begins asking for things in a language that sounds like roughly a cross between English, Chinese and Yenta. We arrive at the school and Ethan, recognizing where we are now, gets all excited. He doesn't want to be held, he wants to walk like a big boy. If you've ever tried going for a walk with a toddler worried that at any moment they might dart out in the busy street, then you can picture what the two of us looked like…it was less like hand-holding and more like me dragging Ethan behind me while he tried to twist out of my hold so he could make a beeline for the yard art from every house we passed while I chanted the phrase "no, Ethan let's go find Emmy". We FINALLY make it inside the school, and to the gym. At this point, I'm thinking it's best to find the seats closest to the door in case I have to make a hasty exit.
The first 15 minutes the Rice Intermediate Orchestra performs, and guess what?!?!??! My little angel just sat there on the bleachers next to me, his hands folded serenely in his lap mesmerized by the performance. I was beaming, I was so proud of my grown-up acting little munchkin. I worried for naught…right? WRONG!
The orchestra finished and now it Emily's turn. Her band was playing 2 songs and while they were filing in to find their seats, Ethan realized two very important things:
1) He could get up
2) The stairs and bleachers made noise when you stomp on them
So, he begins to jump up and down on the bottom stair making a resounding boom boom boom sound. I try to pick him up, and the boom sound is then replaced by the squealing like a pig sound. I can't speak for everyone, but I prefer the boom sound. I am getting irritating looks, but I mean seriously, what was he disturbing exactly? The quiet nothing as they found their seats and opened their music, because once the music started you couldn't hear anything my darling little boy was doing. Personally, I felt his stomping and kicking (I forgot to mention this, when I made him sit down, he started banging his feet against the back of the bleachers and that noise was hideous) added much needed flair and ambiance, but whatever. These parents acted like they actually paid for this performance. I really hate others sometimes. So even though I was annoyed by my own child, I was forced to give dirty looks at the other annoyed people and act like everything he was doing was completely lovable and endearing. Of course, when he started to dance, how could you help but not fall in love with him. My boy has got mad dance skillz!!!! He was dancing to the band…yee-haw!!!!!! It's impossible to describe the dance here, but if you didn't know him, you'd think he was having some sort of fit or seizure. No one came rushing to my aid, so I can only assume they either wished him ill-will or noticed that I wasn't panicking.
The two songs are now over, Emily is packing up her instrument, and Ethan and I head outside. I see the car. Ethan sees wide open spaces to run and rocks to jump off. At first he just runs around in a circle in the little rock garden, jumping from brick to brick. He did almost do a face plant on the side walk after tripping over some thick grass (yes, I said grass) causing several girls in the vicinity to gasp in concern. I think he liked that a lot because he started giggling and running in a circle faster. Emily finally exited the school, and I attempted to reach out and grab my son. He's a slippery little fella, and evades both our attempts to catch him, running around, giggling like it's some grand game. Emily is trying not to drop her flute, and I'm trying not to look like the main character in "Run Fatboy Run". Emily finally corners him, and I reach down and grab him, hoisting him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes while he screams like he's being kidnapped. I turn around, and there is Ian, a "friend" of Libby's. First, he just glances in my general direction because Ethan is screaming like a banshee after all, but then he spies Emily, and looks to almost get whiplash as he turns his head around again realizing that it's Libby's mother and little brother. I can feel Libby's mortification and she's not even there to witness my humiliation. I walk to the car holding my screaming child while he twists and squirms trying to break free while people pass me commenting "boy, I don't miss that stage". Yeah, bite me.