That's Elmo's World!

Jim had been waffling for days and finally told me to just go ahead and take the girls. Then I started waffling because Clementine has a squirrel bladder; Charleigh's squirrelly, in general; and Mama's tired in the way the people of East Tennessee say it best: tarred. Just go ahead and feather me; I'm ramfeezled and forswunk.

But I really, really wanted to take the girls, so I did it: I ordered three tickets. And no sooner did that e-mail confirmation hit my inbox than the phone rang. It was Jim, and surprise! he'd ordered four tickets. What a nightmare, getting all that straightened out, but I wouldn't change it. I mean, my Jim's the most bullheaded of any man I've ever known, but he really, really loves us.

Take a hulk of an ex football player, and (after he's spent a ton of money and driven an hour to the venue) plunk him down in an uncomfortable seat, smack-dab in the middle of Sesame Street Live. Call his being there big love; I do.

Clementine (3 yrs, 3 mos old) loved each of the ninety minutes of the show.

Charleigh (1 yr, 9 mos old) loved the Elmo's World part of the show, which is to say: she was riveted for approximately fifteen minutes. She spent the rest of the time trying desperately to escape. Not even cotton candy proved to be a good distraction.

Still, I'd totally do it all over again. I'm a crazy nutbar like that.