I know I have written before about being glad that the band, Corduroy, practices here in our house, feeling like the cool parents who allow it. And I am sometimes, I do, but less and less. The novelty may be coming to an end.
Take today for instance. It’s Saturday, and the band is coming over to practice at 11 am. 11 am! No quiet afternoon here to play holiday music and bake cookies and juice all the citrus for the winter margarita I’m making to take to a party tonight and write a blog post to remind you all that I’m here. More and more often we plan to be gone during band practices, but today, we have to be here. There is no escape.
I’m 50 now, and these young whippersnappers are just so dang loud! And get off my lawn already!
