Tonight was spent at the last Winter Orchestra Concert of my baby’s high school career. 

Bittersweet.

I sat just a few rows from the front, camera in hand, ready to move to the edge of my seat to preserve the Kodak moment. I’d like to think it doesn’t happen too often, but tonight I was one of those parents. 

But then, just as Tanner’s orchestra was on stage poised and ready to play, a gaggle of tiny bodies poured into my row, climbing over my legs and squirming into their seats. 

Oh, I was not a happy camper. 

I just knew one of these little monsters was going to repeatedly kick the chair ahead of them, get up a thousand times to go to the bathroom, and “whisper” in a tone that can be heard four rows away.

But then it happened. 

The conductor raised her arms, the music began to play…and the wriggling stopped. 

It was magical.

For a solid hour, these little ones were completely mesmerized. Not one got up or made a peep.

They were silent, polite, respectful. And I was stunned. Sure, they squirmed a bit and one little girl started to pretend that she was a master conductor, but they were delightful. The only regret I have about sharing the evening with these little ones is the fact that I didn’t get a photo of the metallic silver clogs that the little girl right next to me was sporting. They were way cool. 

What a great night.