So yesterday, when I picked up Beege and her teacher "reminded" me about it, and the fact that she was supposed to wear black pants and a red shirt, I had no idea what she was talking about. Luckily for me, Beege doesn't exactly care whether something is technically clean. Usually, I would insist on doing some laundry, but right now I am so tired that I didn't bother.
Oddly enough, nothing happened.
By which I mean that not only did she not burst into flames when she started singing, but no one noticed or commented on my daughter's lack of freshly laundered clothes. It was liberating. I may never do laundry again.
Unless things are stained. Or smelly. Okay, I guess I'll still do laundry.
The concert was that lovely mix of awkward and adorable that you get at grade school shows. My daughter was, of course, all adorable.
While my plan had been to sit as near to the door as possible so I would be able to make a quick escape, we ended up way on the other side of the gym in the front row. So I am thrilled to announce that my rebellious intestines gave me a break, there were no coughing fits and I only had to blow my nose like a foghorn once.
Kee even stayed beside me the entire time; although I did have to fork over the camera to get her to stop asking "can we go home now?" over and over.
There are 75 more pictures almost exactly like this.