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Of course, the day didn't start out like that. You ever just wake up in a cranky blah mood for no particular reason? Well, that was me. Color me blah. And the closest reason that I could come up with was that I needed some excitement. My previous week was blah, my errands were blah, and we had absolutely no Saturday plans, which was blah cherry on top of my blah cake.
I think you get the picture.
Now normally, Tony (being of the male persuasion and all), can be somewhat blind to my blahs. On any given Saturday, the list of items that gets Tony's attention is 1) the sporting event currently playing on TV, 2) what is available to eat in the kitchen, and 3) the upcoming sporting event that will come on after the current sporting event is concluded. Whether or not his wife is emitting deep theatrical sighs falls somewhere around 4,783 on the Tony attention-o-meter. (Unless I cry. Sudden bursting into tears gets me up into the top 5, but only for as long as it takes me to tell him what it wrong. Lack of a specific reason drops me back down to around 28...high enough to make him pat me awkwardly on the leg while I sniff uncontrollably, but not enough to actually remove his eyes from the Bears/New England game. Like I said, he's a man).
But Tony must have been on especially on his game yesterday (or else it was halftime), because he picked up on my blahs without even a sniffle to clue him. And then he did the best thing. He gave me a hug. A good long bear hug. And then the second best thing...he asked if I wanted to go to dinner and the symphony.
To which I replied, "Oh my word, you've got some kind of terminal disease you aren't telling me about, don't you?"
See, I love the symphony. Love it love it love it. But this is a small miracle in terms of how Tony is usually willing to spend his Saturday nights. And just so you understand the full and total scale of this miraculous miracle, you should know that also playing at the Civic auditorium, at the very same time, in the very same venue as a the symphony orchestra, was a hockey game. So not only was Tony willing to sit through the symphony, but he was doing it instead of watching a hockey game.
And nothing says I love you like Tony skipping the chance to see a hockey game in order to sit through Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies.
(In fact, I'm still not sure the terminal disease thing is entirely off the table).
But we went, and it was fabulous. I got all gussied up in my finest
(I know! The symphony AND ballet! Not only is he terminal, but he's probably lost the house in a poker game and isn't telling me).
But you know what? I think he liked it. Maybe not enough to get season tickets, but enough that he didn't fall asleep or sneak off to catch the hockey score during intermission. And I loved it. The music was fabulous, the singing was fabulous, the dancing actually made me cry at one point. (Happy crying though, not blah crying. Apparently pregnancy hormones REALLY enjoy the Waltz of the Flowers. Go figure.) In fact, the one and only thing I'd change was the guy with the 2 year old girl that sat next to us. Don't get me wrong. The 2 year old was perfect...she never made a peep. The man, however, sang along with the orchestra on some of the songs. I did not come to the symphony to listen to you warble along to Little Drummer Boy, sir. Especially since you do not know all of the correct words.
But other than that? Fabulous Saturday night date. My own personal Prince Charming rode in, battled the blah monster, whisked me away for a magical night of music and dance, and then returned me safely home (where he promptly checked the game highlights, because he SWEARS he isn't dying).
So I guess the moral of the story is that my hubby is the best hubby ever. (Sorry ladies. He's all mine). And also, it's impossible to have the blahs when listening to the KSO do their Christmas show. And if you get a chance, go see it, because it is awesome.
You don't even have to have to be on your death bed.
