Concert Night

On concert nights the boy and I are on our own for dinner. Jeff doesn’t even bother coming home after school only to change clothes, gulp down leftovers, and return to prepare for the show. His routine these days includes a quick trip to Quiktrip when school is over at 3 p.m. to grab a hotdog and drink. Then he spends the next few hours preparing notes, double-checking the PowerPoint, making sure the seating charts are in order, making sure the risers are centered, and endeavoring to keep the microphones operating (which is often a lost cause, but he tries anyway).

Meanwhile, I head home to hang out with our son until the concert starts at 7 p.m. (One of the perks of being married to the director is having reserved seating so we don’t have to show up early when the doors open.) The fact that several hours belong to just the two of us normally means having dinner out before the show, and tonight will be no different. Right now you’re probably asking “What about this whole eat at home thing you have going?” Let me explain. Concert nights are generally hectic at our house because Jeff isn’t there to lend a hand. This evening I have to make a dessert to take to a friend’s house tomorrow, so I’ll need some quality time with the oven, which precludes throwing in a frozen pizza. In addition, my son has to hunker down over some biology notes if he hopes to ace tomorrow’s test. Thus, the stars are conspiring against us to eat at home, though in reality we could have some leftovers or grilled cheese sandwiches.

The truth is I am more inclined to indulge my son’s propensity for fast food when it’s just us. A stop at Mickey D’s yields precious time to hang out with my teenager. After finishing our separate responsibilities, dinner on the way to the concert allows me to hear about my teen’s day and laugh over his various antics. Those thirty minutes we spend sipping sodas and eating fries allows us to connect better when we’re in a hurry. For example, on the night of the fall concert, we stopped at Wendy’s for dinner. Over baked potatoes and Frosties I heard all about a girl in my son’s guitar class inviting him to a Rave. The amusing part of the story was how he used me as an excuse to say no. I’m not sure I would have heard this little tidbit if I had just handed him a sandwich as he went downstairs to get his homework done. That night, and others like it, demonstrated to me the value of a few dollars used to gain meaningful time.

So tonight we’ll hit the chores and the books, but we won’t skip our traditional stop at a local eatery before checking out what my husband’s students have accomplished this quarter.