Last night, as we descended the stairs, he said, "Let's play the food game." OK. I love the food game. 3 years ago, when Urban was 2, he began showing interest in helping me in the kitchen. So, I made it my mission that summer to find him a Fischer Price play kitchen at a garage sale. As luck would have it, we came across one in very good condition that came with food and some utensils too! And, as a bonus, it was not all shades of pink! So, we paid the $20 asking price, disassembled it and jammed it into the Scion. As soon as we got it set up at home, Urban commenced "cooking." And what was the first thing he made me? A red plastic fish on a tiny plate. "Sushi!" he said, in his pre-full-sentence exclamation. Ever since that first "dish," his creations have become more elaborate and creative. I absolutely LOVE this game.
So, last night I sat in my designated diner's chair and pretended to eat a 4 course meal beginning with honey and donut soup with green grape garnish, followed by a waffle cheeseburger slider, a main dish of hotdog, sweet corn and banana, and then dessert – lime sorbet on a sugar cone. It was quite an imaginary feast. As I was finishing my sorbet, the plastic phone in the kitchen "rang".
It was Dada, apparently. Urban informed me that I should, "Sit down. You're better not gonna believe this. Dada is DRIVING the BUS home, and he's bringing us kangaroos! I get the orange one,a nd you get the purple one!" This was followed by a lot of dancing and 'woo-hoos'. Then, the phone "rang" again. This time, it was Grampa Tom.
"Oh. My. Gosh. Mama. Sit down." (I was already sitting.) "Grampa Tom says that we need to go meet him at a concert! And that I can get on stage and SING! You better call Dee Snyder and tell him I'm coming."
I stifled a laugh as I was handed a second toy phone to make this very important call. Then his phone rang again. (Somehow I never hear the ring, he must have it on vibrate...) Anyway, this time, it was Kelly Clarkson. She was calling to give us directions to the show.
Urban grabbed my hand – his phone in the other – and started dragging me all over the house to find the concert. At one point, as we entered a third room and it was apparently "not there," he rolled his eyes dramatically, covered the mouthpiece of the phone and whispered, "She's not very good with directions."
Finally, we ended up in Mom's living room on the main floor. This was the venue. Urban ran into a little alcove, strutted out with his hands held aloft in the rock and roll salute and said, "Hello! I'm Dee Snyder, and... I WANNA ROCK!!!!"
He then began a 15 minute performance of "We're Not Gonna Take It" ending in him encouraging me to join him in the chorus from my place in the "audience". The crowd went wild. (OK, I went wild.) When we finished, he spun around, fists in the air, and shouted, "THANK YOU, XERXES AVENUE!" And retreated back into the alcove.
It was the most fun I have had in YEARS. Thank you, Urban, for the amazing concert. You, quite literally, rock.
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