We love Saturdays. My husband and I are die-hard homebodies….lazy, late breakfasts, college football, yardwork, reading, snoozing, whatever, just so long as we’re at home! Having a booked Saturday is almost as bad as having a tooth pulled.
Well this past weekend, Saturday was not spent at home….far from it.
It all started 10 years ago, when our girls were 6, 8, and 10. Their dad, a music lover to the core, heard about a "Little Boy Band" called Hanson (remember "Mmmmbop"?) who were from a Christian family….and of all things, homeschoolers! On top of that, despite their youth, the Hanson brothers displayed a remarkable amount of talent. So we bought their first recording. And their second. And the third. Are you getting the idea?? The three little girls in our home were smitten…dreaming every night of becoming any one of the three future Mrs. Hansons. Never mind that the Hanson boys’ long blonde tresses made it hard to tell that they were, in fact, boys!
Fast forward 10 years…..
Believe it or not, Hanson (now all married and looking MUCH more like boys) is STILL a force to be reckoned with. And our girls, at 16, 18 and 20, are still completely unashamed to call themselves Hanson fans. Soooo, long story short, on Saturday, instead of staying at home relaxing on a beautiful autumn afternoon, I accompanied five teenage girls (two cousins joined us) into Chicago to attend a Hanson concert with about 1,300 other formerly prepubescent Hanson fans.
It was a dream come true for my girls. Mind you, I was miserable. The day was long and tiring. We sat on the sidewalk for almost 4 hours, then we stood (and bounced and jumped) for 4 hours in a "nose to the back-of-the-head" crowd (why don’t they let you sit down at concerts anymore?). The noise was almost unbearable. But despite all of the discomforts, there’s almost nothing I love more on this earth than seeing my girls smile…and with the exception of when they witnessed the birth of their baby brother, I don’t think I’ve ever seen happier smiles! The rich opportunity of joining my soon-to-be-grown-up girls in their world is not one that comes to a mother every day! I so often expect them to be content in my world, but, to my shame, am not nearly as likely to look for joy in theirs.
But on the way home, singing Hanson songs with my daughters at the top of my lungs, I smiled as I thought to myself, "I can’t remember when I’ve had a better Saturday!"