Nothing brings tears to a parents eyes faster than hearing your daughter nail her piccolo solo at a contest. That’s what happened today and I suddenly had a speck of dust in my eye. So did she who must be obeyed. (More on that later.)

The rest of the day was me avoiding fault and being ignored and being given the wrong information.

Last night we hashed out our plans for the day. This usually involves me making suggestions and She Who Must Be Obeyed ignoring them. Last night, though, we seemed to be in sync and we agreed on having a big breakfast followed by snacks at the performance hall. We’d leave at ten-thirty or eleven and that would give us plenty of time to get the site. Instead of lunch,k we’d just snack because we’d have eaten a big breakfast.

The main sticking point was that, technically, I’m at work and there are things the company I work for won’t let me do before lunch (for example: send in the day’s work and fill in the useless form that accompanies the day’s work.)

Then, this morning, She Who Must Be Obeyed prepared lunch for our oldest which meant I couldn’t use the kitchen to make a large breakfast. I guessed that meant she planned on making the large breakfast. While I waited, I located the site and pointed out that the site didn’t have any places to eat nearby. I then started working on the day’s work and was informed we’d be leaving at nine-thirty, an hour before we’d planned. The “big breakfast” turned out to be a couple of onigiri (rice balls) which is the Japanese equivalent of two slices of plain bread with no butter. I snarfed them down and saved my work in a draft email so I could email it at the appropriate time.

We then got going, eventually, after laundry was finished (long story), and went to a different station than we usually go to. (From there we had to walk to a different station. Long story.) It was then my responsibility to get us to the station, which I did once I found a map.

When we got to the site, She Who Must Be Obeyed wanted to get a seat three hours before we needed one. I said I’d rather have breakfast, which we did (pizza and pasta because it was lunch time). That was followed by the traditional “finding of the seats”. This involves me picking a location that will allow us to see our oldest and then being left behind whilst She Who Must Be Obeyed picks a different location. This time there was a twist though as, once the second location was selected and I expressed my approval (keep in mind, I’m 6’2″ in a country build for people who are 5’4″ and there are very few seats that fit me so I’m fairly picky) SWMBO went to find different seats.

The new seats were box seats and were reasonably comfortable for me, but I knew right away we wouldn’t be able to see our oldest. (I was right and picked the best seat.)

Then the music started and after a few rounds it was our oldest’s moment. She nailed her solo bringing tears to both parents’ eyes. (We have a CD of it, and I’ll try to make a copy some day.). After that, I ran away so that I could “do work”.

In the end, our oldest’s band finished second–last year they finished third–which means they won’t be moving on to the grand finals and a television appearance. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.