Evan had his end-of-the year performance at his preschool and I have never seen so many cameras and frantically waving adults in my life. At the risk of losing any remaining cred, I must count myself among the camera-wielding-waving morons. I may have also army-crawled up to the front (so as not to block anyone else’s shot, OK?) to get a better picture of him. He also may have shot me a look that clearly conveyed, “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER. You are an adult. Get up off the floor. Yes, I SEE YOU. Now stop waving.” He’s three and already horrified by me. Awesome.
The performance was also part of the preschool graduation, complete with tiny caps and gowns. Evan was not graduating, but if my reaction to the sight of these random kids receiving little diplomas is any indication of how I will behave when it’s his turn…wow. Expect a blubbering crying train wreck. You’ve been warned. It was so cute my cold, dead heart melted a little and may have exploded when Evan’s class sang “Volare.” It was just as fantastic as it sounds.
Now before you all think I’ve gone soft or something, rest assured that I still whispered snarky comments about a.) the attire of other parents, b.) the utter unoriginality of names among Evan’s schoolmates and c.) the varying levels of talent among the children. Who would mock a preschooler? Hi.
After dinner and margaritas (just for Mama and Sissy, don’t call CPS) Evan and I hit up his sweet trampoline. Oh, did I mention I was never allowed to have a trampoline? Allow me to mention that now. The trampoline was so. much. fun. I used all of the jumping as an opportunity to teach Evan the words to the seminal Van Halen classic “Jump.”
To sum up: obnoxious commentary, booze and Van Halen. Yes, typical DeFazio family gathering.