Kirk and I went to a Back-to-School Vendor Expo recently in which businesses that cater to homeschoolers gathered so families could see them all at once in one tidy location. Great idea! The zoo was there and various clubs and they all had information for families to take home. So, there we are, rounding the corner and it was one of those times when your feet move faster than your brain.
It was just beginning to register what this particular table was offering, but it was too late, my feel were still moving toward them. How do I describe this? An entire family that has devoted itself to playing (and teaching others to play) one particular type of music. Bluegrass, to be specific. Now, far be it from me to be indelicate, but let's just say that I am not a fan. Also, let's just say that when your family takes you to Silver Dollar City during your pre-adolescent years and you are forced to listen to Bluegrass for an entire weekend AND you are hot, sick and upchucking that perhaps, just perhaps it can leave a lasting impression. Aversion therapy, if you will.
So, just as we approach the table and my brain now absorbs the full shock of what is to come I realize that my feet will not move in the opposite direction and that I am heading full-steam into the Bluegrass Abyss. I tried, in vain to get my feet to skeedaddle away just as Bluegrass Homeschooling Mom lunges toward me, clutching a brochure in her hand and asked me, with breathless exhilaration, "Do you like bluegrass music?".
It was, at that very moment, that my most sarcastic and sardonic and not-at-all-appropriate mind started a running list of What Could I Possibly Like MORE Than Bluegrass Music?
1. Root canals
2. That gristly part of an otherwise good steak
3. Stepping in freshly excreted......anyway.
What else could I do? Does my desire to tell the truth trump her feelings? Would my capri pants suddenly ignite if I said, "Why I just LOVE Bluegrass!"? Ever the giver, I smiled, with what I hoped was a touch of warmth and replied, "sure, I LOVE bluegrass!". (Kirk quickly hopped two feet to his immediate left as he was sure I was about to be a victim of a lightening strike.)
Upon hearing this, Bluegrass Homeschool Mom makes the palms-up, strike-up-the-band motion with her right hand and bellows,"hit it, kids!" I attempted a look of delight and, really, what else could I do?
Yeah, I clutched the pearls. I did it, so what? I said,"Oh, what a TREAT! We are just going to listen from over there" as I gestured toward the exit. I knew I had to get outta' there before I began an involuntary skip-to-muh-loo.