Friday, July 30, 2010

While Their Guitars Gently Weeped

Went to another concert in the park last night - new park this time - and it was a Beatles tribute band. While the pitch and harmonies were a little scattered it was still a very nice evening. This time, the whole family went - my sisters, the girls cousins, grandma and papa - so it was even more fun than the last couple of ones we've been too. One thing that Gina noticed last night was how intent Caelyn (the newest cousin) watches the girls and what they are doing. For the past 9 months we've observed them, especially Arianna, staring intently at older children as if they are taking notes and waiting for their shot at mobility to imitate the actions they've seen. Now we can see that same look in Caelyn's eyes and I know it's only a matter of time before she becomes the the third little Musketeer of the little girls club. She's much bigger than her brother and is looking like she's getting the strong blue eyes as well - in fact a couple people stopped last night because they thought they were triplets (they don't look THAT much alike, but I could see someone making the stretch, all three are babies). As we were driving home I began to have visions of sleepover parties with nail painting and hair braiding and boy talk, and I realized. ... I've only got a few years left until I'm completely muscled out. No one wants Dad hanging around their hair braiding party. No one wants Dad to join in the conversation on boys (and Dad doesn't really want to either). Gina won't let me near her toes and a bottle of nail polish after my last attempt towards the end of her pregnancy. So what's a Dad in a house full of girls to do? I figure my choices are A) start a car collection that I can constantly work on, B) sabotage the house from time to time so I have a projects list to work on or C) make some friends that I can go on fishing/camping/hunting trips with. It should be noted that plan A requires me to learn something about cars and plan C requires me learn how to fish (let's face it, most of my life my dad baited my hook and I just stuck the thing in the water. ... not rocket science) and/or get over my displeasure of killing other mammals. It looks like B is the front runner! Although Gina might start to get suspicious when every time there's a sleepover the barbecue explodes or the patio cover falls down. Whatever. As long as it gets me away from the conversation about Taylor Lautners abs.

1 comment:

  1. I know, I know. ... title should be "wept" and not "weeped".