Just before school let out for the summer, I received an email from a lovely woman with Quaker Chewy Bar's P.R. firm inviting our family to a private concert with Miranda Cosgrove as part of their After School Rocks campaign.
Now, me being all unconcerned with the world and famous people and all, I kind of took half a breath before I replied, "WE'DLOVETOCOME!!!!"
I mean, "I guess it would be o.k., if we can squeeze it into our schedules."
Demure-ity is my middle name.
The smallish Hill children were U.N.D.O.N.E. One, by the opportunity to be arms length away from iCarly, and two, the variety and quantity of snacks available upon entrance to the venue.
If they didn't already have a favorite Chewy Bar, they would by the end of the afternoon since they tried them all with Gatorade chasers, twice.
I don't have pictures because cameras were forbidden and I'm a rule-follower.
Miranda (we're totally on a first-name basis except she calls me Mrs. Hill because I'm old) was amazing. She has a beautiful voice and acts like a 17 year-old girl - not a hooker on crack. Wow. That just popped out, sorry about that.
Ahem. Anyway, thanks to the Quaker people, we all got to go backstage after the concert and meet her which was great for my kids but I was all, "Who cares?", because, you know, the whole 'I don't really care about famous people thing.' She was so cute and sweet and talked about homeschooling, her poodle, and my son's hair - which leads me to the only negative about the whole experience.
Y'all know my 8 year old, Graham. Y'all know his obsession with his hair, his disdain of haircuts, and the constant battle we have keeping him properly coiffed and in-line with school policy.
Earlier that week, the wonderful Head of Lower School, Mrs. Sharpless pulled him aside and said, "Graham, buddy, I know we've only got two weeks of school left but you're hair is too long and I gotta have you cut it one last time before summer."
Truthfully, it's the only way we can get him to cut it because Mrs. Sharpless' words are like the LAW. Sometimes, I ask her real nice-like if she'll, in passing, tell my kids they have to clean their rooms.
She usually just laughs like she doesn't think I'm serious. She's wrong.
Anyway, the battle had begun and Graham was loudly lamenting the fact that he would have to cut his hair in the next couple of days as we took off for the concert. During Miranda's performance, he had all but forgotten the directive handed down by Mrs. Sharpless. Forgotten until we walked into the room with Miss Cosgrove herself.
The very, very first words out of her mouth were, "Hey, Graham, it's nice to meet you! LOVE YOUR HAIR!"
How do you think that haircut went?
Yeah, that's about right.