So Emma Kelly went to her first concert this weekend! And — just like Mommy — it was a boy band! And — just like Mommy — it was a hot British boy band! Yes, Emma Kelly saw One Direction, even though I’m not really sure she grasped how big of a deal this really was. Perhaps the girls weeping around us should’ve been her first clue.
First of all, I won’t even go into the drama of getting there. Well, I will just a little. My girlfriend Shanda and her daughter Rylee were going to meet me there because I had our tickets and the parking pass. But there was an accident of epic proportions, I guess, because the highway she needed to take was backed up for approximately one billion miles. But she managed to finagle her way around every side street imaginable to get to the venue. But then, as her car was passing mine and I tried to catch her but ended up taking a wrong left turn and slamming my thumb into the steering wheel which made me rip my nail down into the quick, I lost her. The logical thing to do would be to call her, right? But apparently the cell phone towers at the pavilion are no match for obsessed teenage girls who aren’t so much concerned than Shanda and I are separated and can’t get a call through while they text and tweet “OMG” and “WTH” and “#OneDirection” back and forth a billion times over.
So after each of us assumed where the other would be, we eventually made our way to each other. And that’s when Emma Kelly started pouting. She didn’t like the way I fixed her hair. She continued to pout about it until we found our way to our seat and Shanda and I sat down and uncurled each of the spirals I had so carefully spun and pinned on top of her head and threw it up into a ponytail. Problem solved.
But then she couldn’t understand why this Olly Murs person was singing instead of One Direction. And she really couldn’t understand why he sang more than one song. So that was my cue to distract her with food. She decided on a pretzel, a corn dog and a Pepsi. That will be $22.50, please. And don’t think I’m not taking it out of her future allowance, either.
So we went back to our seats, tripping over bodies along the way. And for the next hour and a half and in 100 degree plus heat and with girls waving “Show me your t*ts!” and “I’ll suck all of your d****s” signs waving behind us — no, I’m not kidding — I held EK in my arms as she waved and kicked and bobbed and weaved to One Direction. And no, my daughter isn’t a petite flower. She inherited her solidity from me. But her pleasure was worth my back pain. It’s so funny because she really thought the guys were going to sing two songs because that’s all she’s heard them sing. It was very confusing for her. But she started checking out what the other girls were doing around us — thank the Lord she can’t read really big words yet so she wasn’t influenced by that — but she did throw her little heart hands up in the air and let out a couple of screams just because she could. Her face just BEAMED. But I’m thankful that 1D sang both of their hits before the encore so we could slip out ahead of the masses. I seriously think NOBODY left early except for me and EK.
And because of where we parked, we got stopped by security because the band’s bus was about to pull out of the parking lot as soon as the guys sang their last note. And they had motorcycle escorts to prevent little girls from throwing themselves on the ground in front of the moving buses because apparently, that has been a problem in the past. So EK and I stand there and she jumps up and down and waves maniacally at this passing bus with blacked-out windows and no sign of a boy anywhere. She wants to stick around for bus number two, but sweaty Mommy prevailed and we got into the the comfort of my amazingly air-conditioned Edge and made our way home. We collapsed into bed about 11pm and slept until 10:45 the next morning. The perfect ending to my daughter’s first concert. And I’m just so happy that we got to do that together