This would actually be a lovely story, if it were all true. Most of it is true enough, and the rest is kind of an embellishment, the kind that good storytellers use to make people weep (or at least pay attention).
The true part is that Tammy and David’s “song” (as in “they’re playing our song”) never got played at their wedding, due to DJ negligence. (That’s “disc jockey,” not you-know-who.) That’s not the kind of thing a person like Tammy forgets, and when she found out that the local radio station was giving away tickets to an out-of-town concert by the singer of their song, she tried to win them.
Alas, she was not the right numbered caller (or whatever), but she told the radio DJ the sad story, along with whatever embellishments she could come up with. Wouldn’t it be a romantic gesture, she wondered, if she could win those tickets and take her husband of a year and a half to that very special concert? The DJ had to agree with her, and he promised that she would hear from him if more tickets became available.
Well, you know the rest of this part of the story. The force of nature that is Tammy not only got tickets, but also got baby sitters lined up for the concert tonight. She and David took off late this afternoon for dinner (included) and their song. I’m sure it was wonderful.
D.J.’s and Dakota’s grandparents had first choice and took the two older boys. I would have been second on that list. But since Suzanne had Aiden, and John is out of town, I spent the evening hanging out with the two of them. We played and played, and laughed and laughed. That’s what you do when you’re in Aiden’s sparkling company. He has a personality as big as any amphitheatre. You could have sold tickets to this show (but I got mine free).
This baby will be a year old next Wednesday. It hardly seems that long, but I look at photos from last summer and I can see the seeds of the little person he is now. How two such intense parents made a baby this mellow I don’t quite understand. He’s always in a good mood, and even when he fusses it’s for a specific reason. Solve his problem and he’s happy again. Just as any sane person would be.
And oh my, does he ever love to entertain. And climb. And explore, and rearrange anything within his reach. And look out the window. And use those stubby, wobbly legs to chase the dog all over the house. He’s a man of many interests, with an expanding ability to communicate. And five or six teeth. It’s all so miraculous I just can’t stand it.