On Saturday the girls and I went to have lunch at Potbelly Sandwiches. While we were enjoying the delicious eats, a young carrot-topped guitar player stepped up to the microphone and started jamming on his axe. I wouldn't have paid much attention to the guy, but Caitlyn wanted to watch him play his guitar (complete with her making guitar strumming motions). For the first song, she had Deb hold her as she stared at him making music for the crowd eating their weekend lunch. For the second and third song, she wanted me to hold her as she made "goo-goo eyes" at the red-haired musician.
I must say that this dad had some bad thoughts about his daughter running away from home with some guitar-toting, dirt-poor musician breaking the heart of her father and crushing his dreams for his daughter...
I didn't cry, but I made sure that we exited the restaurant quickly...bad thoughts abounded as I placed Caitlyn in her car seat...I had to apologize to her later...
2 comments:
Dean,
So lately I've been into saying, "Story of my life" after everything, because it's awesome to do so and it doesn't annoy anyone at all. Example: Terri: "I'm having a bad hair day"
Andrew: "Story of my life"
Terri: "Those 6th graders make me so mad!"
Andrew: "Story of my life"
We'll I think a few years ago if Terri's dad read your post, all he could say was, "Story of my life."
Let's just hope I don't have to!
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