Little Drummer Girl

Twenty-nine days of school and counting.  Is there any other profession where people wish large portions of their lives away just to make it to the goal of a couple of months (or weeks...or days) off?  Probably.  Anyway, it's springtime and the sap is running high in the high school.

Little Miss and I had a girls' night--even though it meant returning to school.  We dined at a new restaurant in town...

She seemed lukewarm in her review of the cheeseburger.  My spinach/mushroom/shrimp enchiladas with tomatillo salsa were pretty good.  I'm sure we'll go back.

Then it was off to the (free) percussion performance at the high school.  I had several students performing and an all percussion event sounded like it would be up Little Miss's alley.

There was a nice crowd,  but room enough that we could sit to ourselves without Little Miss's Twinkle Toe shoes bothering anyone.  I never noticed how bright those things are until we were sitting in a darkened auditorium.  I was quite impressed with the performance.  The percussion group has done very well in UIL competitions and has been invited to several percussion events.  They even kept an antsy five-year-old entertained.  High praise, indeed.

There were two door prize drawings.  We struck out in the first round--three prizes but not any for tickets 518 or 519...Then came the second round, just before the next to last piece--thank goodness (you'll understand why shortly). 

The first number was called...565!  Strike!  "Will we win? Will we win? Please, please, please!," Little Miss chants...And then...519!!!  We win!!  Off she shoots, in front the whole crowd, mind you, up to the front of the auditorium were she receives...

DRUMSTICKS!!! 

She rushed back up the aisle screaming, "I'm a winner!  I'm a winner!  Drumsticks!  Oh, boy!  Oh, boy!"  And, she adds, she wasn't nervous AND she said thank you to the band director.

She managed to make through the next two pieces, but as soon as the show was over, the wrapper was whipped off and she was knick, knack, paddy-wacking everything in sight.  Apparently the best acoustic tone in my car is found by repeatedly hitting the driver side headrest.  The rear driver side window works pretty well, as does the interior roof.  We 5-6-7-8ed all the way home.  With some boom-chica-chica-boom-booms thrown in.  Heaven help me.  I will be emailing the drumline director as soon as I get to work tomorrow to thank him for his generosity.  Or something.

Once we got home,  something even better sound-wise presented itself:

Then we moved to the living room--this fish in the aquarium will never be the same.  I did manage to get the puppy out of her crate before Desi Arnez here beat out Babalou on it.  She took them to bed with her.  You never know what will come of a cultural enrichment outing!