On Friday evening the temperature dropped and the four of us found ourselves sitting around in the family room with the windows open and the television off. Perfect night. Then, all of a sudden: “I SAID HELLO, MARY LOU! GOODBYE HEART! SWEET MARY LOU I’M SO IN LOVE WITH YOU!!!”
Jeff: Girls, do you hear that? The church up the street is having their barbershop quartet sing-off tonight!
Me: Wow! It sounds like they have a new sound system! Should we walk up and watch? There might be snowcones!
Meredith and Harper: NO!
So, we continued to sit and listen from our family room, and the music was a bit loud, yet sort of lovely, and the air was crisp, and all was well. (Five commas!) And then two hours passed, and it was bedtime for the girls, and the whole sing-off thing was quickly losing its charm.
“YOU MUST HAVE BEEN A BEAUTIFUL BABY! YOU MUST HAVE BEEN A WONDERFUL CHILD!!!”
“DOWN BY THE OLD MILL STREAM!!! WHERE I FIRST MET YOU!!! WITH YOUR EYES OF BLUE!!! DRESSED IN GINGHAM, TOO!!!!”
Me: Every time one of the songs comes to an end, I find myself praying that the show is over.
Jeff: I’m starting to wonder if the show will EVER be over.
Meredith: I changed my mind. Let’s go see the singers.
Jeff and Me: No.
Another hour passes.
“YOU HOLD HER HAND, AND SHE HOLDS YOURS AND THAT’S A VERY GOOD SIGN!!! THAT SHE’S YOUR TOOTSIE-WOOTSIE IN THE GOOD OLD SUMMERTIME!!!”
Me: I hate barbershop quartets. HATE them.
“GOODBYE MY CONEY ISLE! GOODBYE MY CONEY ISLE! GOODBYE MY CONEY ISLAND BABE!!!”
Me: I’m going to kill someone. If this doesn’t end soon, I swear I’m calling the police.
Ah, but it did end. And thank God for that, because I was starting to itch in strange places, which I believe indicates the onset of An Episode. I’m not sure who won, but I believe it was the gang who belted out Down by the Riverside. Now that we’re more than 48 hours past the trauma, I feel good admitting that they SHOULD have won. Two words: Harmonized Glissandi. (I’m all about glissandi lately—both the word and the effect. This song is getting a lot of play in my car.) ((By the way, I’m totally going to the barbershop quartet sing-off next year. And I’m taking you with me.))
On Saturday afternoon, we went to the school’s Fall Festival, where plates were broken, faces were painted, and severely awkward conversations were held (because that’s what I tend to do).