Kid-Centric Insanity — Life in the Perpetual Recorder Concert
I can feel you judging me. Stop it right now, Linda. Turn around, look at your phone, and stop acting like this is the most entertaining event you’ve ever attended. They’re 4th-graders with $2.00 plastic recorders, and the sounds they are making are god-awful. You know it, and I know it. So, don’t you dare applaud those shrieks and screeches and then turn around and look at me like I’m a terrible father for wincing.
Oh no. Is the music teacher seriously going to talk between every song? For the love of all that is holy, why? Who is listening to her? Right. Linda. Stop looking interested, Linda; you’re making it worse. We all need to make it painfully obvious to this teacher that no one cares that she had to explain to little Jordan what “hot cross buns” were.
We’re going to be here forever. I’m going to die in this seat. Well, if he wears them to my funeral, at least my son will get more than one night’s use out of the new purple necktie, white shirt, and khaki pants we had to spend another $80 on this grading period. I can imagine Linda scowling about that over the top of my casket right now. She’ll show up, though, because it would be a waste to…
