Odds and Ends and The Music Dwellers

Just so happened today was one of "those" days...I broke a cup and a bowl while hastily trying to clean up the kitchen before the arrival of our cleaning lady. I had to get my sewing machine fixed so that I could do free motion quilting. 



I went to my go to shop - Vacuum city, he fixed my needle plate for free. He refused to charge for his services, as he felt he should have fixed it when I had given it earlier for the yearly maintenance. Next stop was the school, where the cookie dough sold by kids for a fundraiser had arrived. My eighth grader and me picked up our 16 tubs and we managed to sell one on our way out of school. We had no time to sell it like we normally do, so we decided to share it with our regular buyers this time.

Now I had to pick up my senior from high school. He had called me earlier to let me know, that he needed me to bring his formal attire for his band's performance. So, I picked up the whitest looking shirt, ironed it and picked up a nice looking black pair of pants with thin white stripes... And a Tigger tie for a slightly funky orange touch.

I drove up to Capital High school, picked up my son, who is a senior, and was driving him for his band - "The Music Dweller's" performance at a local nursing home, while he was changing his clothes in the car. Oh well! the white shirt that I had slavishly ironed turned out to be small, the pants were just was too tight. When he had the audacity to complain, I chided him, "You must have put on weight or it must be Papa's pants." Poor boy somehow managed to squeeze himself into them... but he screamed as he stood up it was barely covering his knees and he did look a little funny.

I couldn't help laughing. They were his younger brother’s pants! "Oh!

what am I going to do now?"  he bemoaned. Hoping to make him feel

better I decided to take a peek at his five other band mates, they were

waiting in the lobby of the nursing home, looking immaculate in suits with brass buttons and bow ties, but a little tense.

"What is with them?", I asked him. "They can at least smile and relax a little... may be they need some enema." I concluded. He glared at me as he was changing back into his old pair of jeans, that had two decent sized round ink stains... as he sharply said, "Can you stop talking about enema and constipation! You seem to be obsessed with it, ever since Nana ( grandpa) got hospitalized."  I smiled and said, " At least you can add some pizzazz with your orange patka (turban), Tigger tie and formal black shoes."

He was too embarrassed to even come out of the car, but his band had started performing, so he had no choice but to join them.  The band really performed well, the people in the audience grew from 6 to 10 to almost 25. Although, my son felt awkward at first, but he soon got over it, when he played his saxophone. He was even smiling at the audience; his jeans and the two ink stains had become history already.