I Got Skills!

Napoleon Dynamite would be so proud! Last Friday was parents’ night for South Grand Prairie High School’s marching band. Jim & I, of course, attended because Eric was performing. (You can certainly tell where Eric is in the tuba line because of the sudden drop in height of one of the players. Yup, that would be him.) Eric called Friday afternoon and told me to make sure I was wearing comfortable shoes. Why? Because the parking lot was a lot further away than they expected so I should be prepared. Kind of odd, but okay. So we get to the stadium, parking where we usually park and stroll in to the stadium and take our seats on the bleachers. After the kids lined, all in their spaces with bright, shiny, sweaty faces, they performed a really short routine. Just a teaser for the upcoming games. The band director introduced all the board members, student teacher, flag corp, etc. And reminded us all of the ongoing fund raiser. You know – ward business kind of stuff. Then THE BIG ANNOUNCEMENT! “Parents, please raise your hand so that your student will know where you’re sitting.” I look to my right and neither one of his parents are raising their hands. Jim’s not raising his and neither was I just figured that he knew exactly where they were sitting and he was headed their way. That is until I spy Eric running across the field, looking straight at me, with the biggest grin on his face. Dunt, dunt, duuuuuuh! He was coming for me!!! Slowly he turned. Step by step. Inch by inch. Oh, wait. Wrong story. That would be Abbott & Costello, not Eric & Mimi. Sorry. So I met him at the edge of the field and he took me on to my spot. Right on the 40 yard line “cash mark”. I looked around and couldn’t see anybody ready to offer but then he explained it was actually “hash mark”. Oh. Big difference. He very quickly ran me through the two sets (24 and 25 if anyone’s interested) that I was supposed to learn in 5 minutes. Sure seemed like a lot less. I asked him to slow down, show me how to do the moves, but he told me (with an even bigger grin) that he wasn’t allowed to do that. Just talk me through it. Great. So I learned how to stand, where to find my mark, how to hold my arms and hands in place (EYE LEVEL, MIMI!), and how to take (mother, may I?) 9 steps backwards. Not big ones. Sort of ¾ size ones. Not on the balls of my feet but more on the middle of my feet. Huh? About the time I was sorta kinda almost got it, the band director called for all kids to leave the field. Whaaaaaaat? The drum line started doing their thing to give us a beat to move to. I found out where Eric was standing (his smile was now at the excessive wattage point and he could have lit up all of South GP with that grin) and mouthed to him that was SOOOOOO grounded. I actually tried the moves. Held my hands at eye level, arms held high, bingo arms flying in the wind, shuffled my feet, moved to the left, took a couple of steps backwards. Ta da! My proudest move? That I didn’t fall down. Or pass out. Eric was kind enough to escort me back off the field, laughing all the way. He was so danged proud of himself and how he pulled one over on his Mimi. But that’s okay. I know where he sleeps. Oh, and before I climbed back up the bleachers I did the classic raising my arms over my head and gave everyone the classic victory pose. The one that most folks call the “horn” sign. I prefer the “I love you” sign – but with more oomph! Eric’s in trouble because he’s created a monster. SUPUH STAR!!!!