My husband occasionally scrolls through upcoming shows at Cain’s Ballroom in Tulsa, and while perusing a while back he found that CAKE was soon to be there. He mentioned it to me, we nodded at each other as old married couples who share the same brain wavelength do and thought, Hey that would be fun, but should we spend the money on it? Because there’s always something more adult, more responsible to do with your money than go to a concert of a band you really do enjoy and have never seen in concert (him) and especially haven’t seen in a small, great venue like Cain’s; there’s always savings or groceries or something else that needs to be funded. The discussion never fully died, a resolution never firmly made. It just slid onto the backburner, only to move forward into a discussion once we’d neglected it for too long and the desire started burning again in our bellies. Then we again wouldn’t make a decision, just a nod toward each other with a, Man, that would be nice, but responsibilities and stuff.
Then a week and a half ago I decided to forget savings and whathaveyou. Let’s go to the concert. Experiences are important, ya know?
But I didn’t tell my husband! I texted my parents (since they live in Tulsa, for those of you who don’t remember every detail of my life) when he wasn’t looking, worked out that they were free and could handle the Fox Force Five as overnight guests and the Fox Force Children as babysitting charges while Hubby and I stood in the back row and quietly nodded our heads along to the music of CAKE.
Turns out I’d waited too long to make my decision and the tickets were all sold out. So I put my faith in a nice guy with good grammar off Craigslist and bought some tickets he decided that he couldn’t use (“I mean, I just can’t take off work.” Apparently he believed in behaving like a responsible adult.).
And then all week I did not tell my husband. I didn’t tell anyone, except G and Little Missy, because the best way for me to not tell a secret is to forget the secret. Then I won’t accidentally spill the beans.
But the beans were almost spilled on Saturday night at dinner when Hubby asked G, “So Sam’s birthday party is tomorrow, right?” G had forgotten about the party that he couldn’t attend since we’d all be in Tulsa so he shook his head no, but Little Missy not only remembered Sam’s party but also remembered that we needed to play like we were going to be in Kansas that day and so she leaned over to him and nodded nodded nodded to revive his memory. Then his cheeks flushed red and he casually said, “Oh. Yeah.”
Finally Sunday morning I got to roll over in bed and say, “Well, I guess we should pack the truck for Tulsa.”
That man’s excitement was tempered by the fact that he had to work Monday. Adult responsibilities and all. I thought we could neglect those for a day, that he could just call in sick. Because the thing is, he refuses to call in sick even when he is, so he has all these sick days just waiting for him, taunting him because he won’t ever use them and they’ll just fall off at the end of the year. So I thought we should use those suckers and show them who’s boss!
But no. One half of our union decided to grow up and be responsible. It wasn’t me.
So we ate at the Brook, went to the concert, bought t-shirts, didn’t stay for the encores, got back to my parents’ where Hubby slept for 3 hours, then he drank coffee and 5 Hour Energy, drove 3 hours back to Kansas so that he could be at work by 6, then he drove back to Oklahoma to pick up the children and me from a halfway point before driving all of us home.
I think it was all worth it! Holding hands and eating at an old favorite restaurant and listening to music and just being Shannon and Erin for a night. It was good. Despite all the driving and not-sleeping he had to endure.
And now some pictures!