We had such a wonderful time last night at the Winter Garden Music Fest. "We" as in hubby, our daughter and her boyfriend, the grands and I. We went to the festival to watch our son and his band perform. They do retro rock, as Johnny Dee and the Starlights, Legends of Music - music from the 50's and 60's - and people love it! We've been watching our son perform since he was two years old and he got his first guitar for Christmas. He keeps getting better and better...
When we got home, it was happy bedlam. I pretty much fell apart physically, so I was out of commission, but C (daughter's boyfriend) stepped up to the plate and made food for the kids AND cleaned up the kitchen. As I was falling asleep in my chair, Andy asked me what needed to be done before we could go to bed, and I said I had to fill the dishwasher. It was already done - perfectly, I might add!
The only casualty of the night was a beautiful blown-glass pendant C had made for our granddaughter. It was filled with water. He made it himself. Well, it was sitting on the kitchen counter and guess who knocked it to the floor. Then, while the kids were cleaning up the glass and water, Dash insisted on "helping." Andy picked him up and was holding him at the same time I turned on the vacuum cleaner. Dash panicked and flew out of Andy's arms - leaving deep gashes in his hands. There was a lot of blood. Which only goes to show, sh-tuff happens.
I come from a family which used to drive me crazy with their incessant need to bring a good time to a halt by declaring something bad always happens when people are having a good time. Even though there were plenty of good times without incident, they held on to that stupid belief till the end. I am happy to report, I broke through another shackle last night when that thought never entered my head. It just was what it was. Anytime you put a houseful of people, cats and dogs together, something's bound to happen. No stitches were required, thank goodness.
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