Another Surprise - With Apologies to Paul Harvey

The rest of concert night:

8:14 - Julie sends the following text: “Waited in line for 1 hour, nearly got crushed, gave up on t-shirts for now...I’ll try to go down during show for girls.”

8:30 - I pick up Jordan from his Robotics club-thing meeting. Only one row of Julie’s zucchini brownies that I frosted are left in the 9x13 pan.

8:35 - Jordan & I sit down for the rest of a movie that we started a few months ago - the last time all of the girls were gone: The Two Towers.

8:45 - Julie heads back into the fray in search of concert t-shirts. Still crowded, but no fear of being trampled.

9:25 - Julie gets the last youth t-shirt for Katie and finds an adult small for Sarah.

9:50 - Katie is fading fast, “Mom, it’s just like home when I can’t go to sleep.” Except for the 20,000 females screaming “She wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts. She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers, dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you’re looking for has been here the whole time.”

10:00 - Jordan goes to bed. I start doing a few of the things I was suppose to do while the girls were at the concert.

10:37 - I send Julie a text, “Did you survive? Is it over?”

10:38 - “Encores...Katie’s not making it.”

10:57 - Julie calls, “We are finally in the car. Katie was fully awake for the final encore, ‘Love Story,’ [her favorite song]. I don’t think Sarah sat down at all during the whole show. Actually, I don’t know that anyone sat down the entire concert.”

11:45 - Girls finally get home. Sarah talks for at least five minutes straight without breathing.

11:55 - Sarah and Katie are in bed. Julie tries a brownie.

11:56 - “What recipe did you use for this frosting” The one you told me to use. “How much cocoa did you put in?” 1 cup. “What?! The recipe calls for 1/3 cup” Oh. I must have been distracted. “How much sugar did you put in?” 1 cup.

11:57 - Julie is speechless and goes to bed. I re-read the recipe: 1 cube butter, 2/3 cup cocoa, 3 cups powdered sugar, 1/3 cup milk and 1 tsp vanilla. Huh, two for five: I didn’t put in any of the vanilla either. None of the flatulent bunnies seemed to mind.

Apparently, next time, I get to go to the concert. And that, with apologies to Paul Harvey, is the rest of the story.