Becky was hosting a painting party Friday evening, and I had such a good time at the last that I was definitely going to this one as well. Plus the whole "support my kids" thing factors in there, of course. That was on my calendar in ginormous bold letters. With a smiley face.
And then the nephew texted. "You're coming to the Grand March, aren't you?" To which I replied, "What is the Grand March?" Because I honestly had no clue. The rock I live under doesn't have windows.
The nephew was asked by his employer to take said employer's daughter to her prom. He graciously said that he would because he has a ginormous heart, but I also suspect that there may be things going on there that he's not telling us. Under the circumstances, however, I didn't really consider this a big deal and certainly didn't think we needed to attend the prom events.
For those who may not know, the Grand March is when the prom-going couples walk through the arch, stop for photos and to be admired greatly by all the people, and then continue walking so the next couple can have their few minutes in the spotlight. Annnnd, yep. That's it. As far as I'm aware. I wouldn't know for sure because.....
This was the same evening as Becky's painting party, of course, and the whole supportive parent thing covers all our kids, and I knew if Quincey was asking us to attend, it was important to him. That, too was written on my calendar in ginormous print, just one hour before Becky's event, in a town an hour away. We'd be a bit late to the painting event but it's not a big deal. I can paint fast.
It was a glorious evening, and Sam and I decided to take the motorcycle for the first trip of the season. We programmed the GPS to find the school we'd never been to and headed on our way. That GPS took us to the general direction and then lead us on a tour of all the country roads in the township that it thought we needed to experience. The Grand March time came, and went. Quincey texted to see where we were. I had no idea. At all. I apologized profusely. He gave us directions to the school and we turned around. I said we'd be there in 20 minutes. Fifteen minutes later he texted to say it was all over and they were loading up on the buses to head to the prom. We'd missed it.
Discouraged and sporting sore behinds from riding for over an hour (first trip of the year, remember?), we stopped for ice cream to take a rest before riding another hour to at least be able to show support to one of our children. The ice cream was super delicious. And the bike's battery died while we rested. It wouldn't start at all. We made a few phone calls and found a local friend to give us a jump start, and headed on our way. By this time, we'd missed Becky's event as well and headed straight to the auto parts store for a new battery.
We suck at parenthood, apparently. Or maybe it's the thought that counts? That's gotta be the key, right? Despite the total suck of the evening, however, we sure had a good time riding. I also realized that one can, indeed, ride a bike in a skirt. I wanted to look nice for the prom so pulled shorts on underneath a knee-length skirt. It may be my new favorite way to ride. It's far cooler than capris on a very hot day.