...otherwise known as SausageFest '08. Yes, I'm crude.
So, The Wife is in Philadelphia tonight, preparing for the Sweet Adelines Region 15 Convention & Competition. Her quartet is competing tomorrow, where they are going to kick some major booty. I don't know if they will win - in something that is as subjective as music, no judging system is truly objective. But, the barbershop societies do a far, far better job of it than judges in other fields. I wish the "trained musicians and educators" that judge, say, high school band competitions would do one tenth as good of a job as the "motivated amateurs" that judge the barbershop groups.
...but I digress.
Tonight is, to the best of my knowledge, the first night that either one of us is solo with The Boy. How interesting is it that I'm the first to spend the night? I'm really, truly lucky that I get to experience lots of these milestone events with him. It went well, so far. We met my brother for dinner at Hooters - we figured, how better to start a Guys' Night? The waitresses, as you'd imagine, went gaga over the baby. The Boy is really a gorgeous young man, and he's at the absolutely cutest age he's ever been. He's very interactive with people around him, his motions are charmingly awkward and he's actually quite funny, if you pay attention.
Side note: while we were there, I gave him a chicken wing bone to chew on. This was something that my wife & I have discussed to great length. I removed all the parts of the bone that are detachable, save for a thin sliver of meat - this is something we've done for about a week now. A gentleman sitting at the next table - and I use that word deliberately, because he was a real gentleman, no sarcasm here - introduced himself, sat down, and very kindly and patiently asked if we were aware of the potentials for danger that a bone like that has for babies. I was - see the above bit - and told him that, with a smile. We discussed some particulars of the situation for a couple of minutes, and then he excused himself and returned to his table. I found it a particularly interesting discussion, as the man was very gentle and very sincere. This is very unlike the usual person that tries to involve themselves in others' business: usually, you get a stuck-up, nose-in-the-air, arrogant (and I know arrogance) know-it-all who attempts to lecture you about life. The great analogy that my wise uses is the fact that, since she became noticeably pregnant and gave birth, people have deemed it appropriate to ask what she's doing with her breasts. But, this guy was different - and, he bought my brother a beer. (Since I was singing later that night - and don't like drinking anyway - I had diet cokes, which were free refills.)
Afterwards, The Boy & I went to church choir rehearsal. He was very cute, even if he was far more vocal than I would have preferred - and, OMG, I hope that's not an issue tomorrow. I'll die. He wanted to sing along and to talk with Daddy LOTS. He did not fall asleep during the rehearsal, which was surprising. The rehearsal ran from 7:30 until 9:30, which is usually a time that he's asleep. But, he stayed awake and engaged in the proceedings for the entire time, only really crying twice - once, when I put him down in the stroller to try to rock him to sleep, and the second time, when I put him in the front carrier, facing me instead of facing out, like he usually goes. That's fine.
The big issue? He hadn't eaten, and I brought three bottles and no nipples. Argh. Not the Musical Daddy's brightest moment. I did improvise a bit - I had brought a sippy cup so that he could have some water with our dinner, and I used that to help feed him - even though the principal result was a change of his shirt because he wore more milk than he drank.
Brought him home, fed him a bottle and he fell right asleep. Then I watched Battlestar Galactica, Crossroads part I & II. New season starts tomorrow. I'm most concerned about the 4 or 5AM feeding, as it's been a LONG time since I was up at that time to prepare food. Like, never - I just hand him over. Oh, well. I'll adjust.
Tomorrow, we join Mommy in Philadelphia. Lucky us. I hate Philadelphia.