A lovely evening

Dragged Rachel tonight to a performance of the Arlingtones, a tiny men's barbershop chorus, which was performing at the Lubber Run Amphitheater, part of Lubber Run Park, which is about a 10-minute drive from our house. She whined and said several times that she didn't want to go, and then reminded me that I had given her the choice of going or not (which I don't think I had). I explained to her firmly at dinner, "I'm taking you because this is something you should see," or something like that, which foreclosed all discussion.

I was so determined for us to go that I picked her up early from camp, raced us home and then made a quick stir-fry for dinner ("You should make this more often!" Rachel exclaimed; it turned out surprisingly well, which Drew complimented me on) and ate with her so we could get out of the house around 7:45 -- the moment that Drew walked through the door. I had told him I would serve us early and leave enough for him to eat, which he did while we were at the concert.

We got to the amphitheater just as the men started. A female barbershop quartet, See Jane Sing, was also part of the performance -- they did a few numbers. I was so impressed that Rachel remembered one of the old barbershop standards, which I hadn't. ("As soon as they started the chatting, I remembered!" she said.) She liked the women so much that she asked if she could give them money! When I told her it wasn't that kind of performance, she went up to them and (at my suggestion) told them that her Mommy sang with Pride of Portland, which apparently impressed the heck out of them. She got their autographs after their performance, as well as one of the men's, and I struck up a conversation with the women. They were very friendly and I realized how much I miss barbershop, but joining a chorus now is out of the question because I work nights (and, frankly, there really isn't a great one in this area).

Now, the men were terrible. And I mean, TERRIBLE. It was some of the most God-awful signing I've ever heard. The women were only slightly better by a teeny tiny margin. But you know what? As I was holding Rachel in my lap, exchanging kisses and slathered with bug spray, I closed my eyes and hoped I would remember the moment forever -- me and my little girl, on a warm (but not too hot) summer evening, listening to music outside. I hope she remembers, too.