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Concertgoing

For many many years I've wanted tickets to the symphony, but somehow we never got them.  I still remember going to see "Variations on a Theme by Thomas Tallis" soon after Amanda was born and sitting on the edge of my seat the whole time worried that my phone would ring and I'd have to go home. (Looking back on this, I was being ridiculous.  Michael was perfectly capable of handling any emergency.)

This year we finally got season tickets.  For the first concert, I was out of town visiting my brother.  No problem, Michael took Eleanor.  For the next concert, Amanda got sick that night.  If she had been less sad, we probably would have gone anyway, but we decided that she needed to have a parent there.  But there was no time to change the tickets, so they would have to be used that night.

We asked Eleanor, who flatly refused.  I called the neighbors.  My friend was busy.  As we were doing all this calling and asking, Luke kept pestering us.  "Can I go to the concert?" He understood very well that someone needed to go to the concert and was annoyed that we weren't asking him.

Finally, after we called lots of people who couldn't go, we looked at Luke.  "Are you sure you want to go?"  Yes.  "You know that there's no talking during the concert, right?"  Yes, he wouldn't talk during the concert, even whisper (this from a boy who tries to talk while he's brushing his teeth).  Yes, he would behave.  OK, we decided he could try it.

He got dressed up in his "dress pants" and his white shirt and his black belt and his brown shoes.  He was quite pleased with how he looked, actually.  Michael took him (for some reason he doesn't find it as fun to test Michael as he does me.  I'd think about that some more, but I'm not sure I'd like what I found...)  Michael and Luke talked about the rules for concerts in the car and before the concert.  He was definitely prepared and excited.

Luke was really well behaved during the whole thing.  Several people commented on how nicely he was acting.  He chatted with people next to them before the concert and during intermission.  When asked if he wanted to stay for the second half, he really wanted to stay.  He critiqued how the violinist was holding his bow.  He finally fell asleep, long after his bedtime, during one of the last movements.

It was a great success.  The only problem: I am getting the idea that going to the concert will no longer be a romantic getaway for Michael and me.  I think we'll need 3 or more tickets!

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