So I had two religious experiences this weekend — having all of the morning show be there for my daddy’s first Sunday school class and meeting Harry Styles. I think I put too much pressure on both situations.
It meant A LOT to my daddy that everybody showed up. He fell a little short of his goal of 41 — a number that just came to him and we’re not really sure of its significance. But 32 is nothing to be ashamed of! And it would’ve been 27 if Big Al, Dr. Girlfriend, Jenna, J-Si and Shanon hadn’t shown up, so THANK YOU.
And as far as meeting Harry, I guess I should know better by now. But still, you build it up in your head and you hope for this incredible connection and instant rapport filled with laughter, flirtation and innuendo. But at the end of your three minutes, all you can say really is, “Well, that was nice” and “He’s very polite.” My daughter, on the other hand, had her first fangirl freakout moment EVER, and I was honored to be there to witness it.
No, it wasn’t all about Harry. Yes, she met him and shook his hand and flanked him with me for a photo that I proclaimed would be my Christmas card. But for Emma Kelly, it was all about NIALL. She kept her cool when she saw him come around the corner and she didn’t seem overly excited or anxious as he made his way down the line of us shaking hands. But there EK stood, last in line. It’s like she planned it all along. When Niall got to her and reached out to give her a hug, she grabbed onto his waist and wouldn’t let go! I’ve never seen her do anything like that!! What happened to that little girl who would bury her face in my butt??? She was now clinging to Niall’s abdomen with so much passion and force that he felt compelled to bend over and ask her, “Are you okay?” I told her to let go and she posed for a picture, which she proudly declared would be HER Christmas card.
Unfortunately, we could only stay for about 3 or 4 songs, but at least one of them was “Kiss You” so I was happy. School night, you know. The pedicab operators said we were literally the first ones to leave. But by the time we got home and I plopped her into bed, it was 10:30. I’m just glad I’m not the one who has to deal with getting her out of bed and up for school this morning. Sorry, Nanny Laura!!