Concert going

Saturday night we left a good-natured Mark behind to go to Emma's concert (we sadly weren't able to get him a ticket).

We met Emma beforehand for dinner.  We had a nice chat over Costa Vida then dropped her off for her call time.  We had an hour to kill before the concert and decided to walk over to the library to see if they had any interesting displays.

As a side note, the library is completely unrecognizable to me now.  I like the comfort of the aging buildings at BYU where I know where everything is.  The HFAC for example.  I know where the bathrooms are that most of the concert goers don't know about and it comes in handy sometimes.

Anyway.

We were at the library and my phone rang and Adam shushed me but who knows, maybe it's fine to have your phone ringing in the library now?  That place is different.

It was Emma on the phone.  She said she didn't have her black shoes for the concert.  She asked us to go to her apartment and get them.  We immediately headed there.  Baby girl + distress call = mobilization.  We lamented the loss of our great parking spot but Emma needed us.

Emma had said Jackie would be there.  Jackie is her roommate who was decorating cookies when we'd picked Emma up.

Well, Jackie wasn't there.

I texted Emma and Emma texted Jackie and nope.  She wasn't home.

Emma texted, "I should have just sent my keys with you!"  And I realized that would have been a good idea but none of us had thought of it and now there wasn't time to go back to campus and then back to her apartment and then back to campus.  Besides Emma was supposed to be warming up.

When you marry an Adam all your children have big feet.  That's just science.

So I considered giving Emma my black shoes for the concert but they wouldn't fit her.

I texted Liberty.  "What size are your shoes?"

Too small.

We drove to Target.  It's a new little mini Target close-ish to campus and we had never been there before.  I hurried inside to find that it was seriously mini.  There was no shoe department, just some shoes scattered thinly through the clothes.  I quickly scanned the few black pairs.  Wrong size.

A mannequin was wearing black shoes and I got down on the floor to investigate the size.  Too small. I was totally prepared to rip those shoes off the mannequin had they been right though.  I stood up to find a guy staring at me like I was a complete wacko.

What?  You haven't seen a woman down on her hands and knees checking out the shoe size of a mannequin before?

We headed back to the HFAC, out of ideas.  Emma called and was in a complete panic spiral and I told her it was all OK.  "Just go shoeless.  You're in the second row."  They have floor length black skirts and wear black tights.  "It's fine," I told her over and over because being a mother of a child in crisis mode has two facets 1) do everything you can to fix it, even if it means lunacy and 2) reassuring them it's going to be fine.

I asked Adam if he thought you ever reach a point when you don't act like a crazy person for the sake of your children.

We don't know.

We found our seats and were happily in the balcony because we've learned that's the best place to spy our shoeless girl.  (We couldn't tell she didn't have shoes on.)

We loved and adored the concert like we knew we would.  Adam cried more than I did but we had gone straight to Provo right after he was at a meeting with Elder Soares so it's understandable he had an extra tender heart.

At the intermission, Adam stood next to an elderly man and started chatting with him (because he's Adam).  The man asked Adam if he was on the football team.

How old does he think BYU football players are?

The concert was a combination of the four choirs that I love as well as the BYU Philharmonic and a brass quintet.

How wonderful is a world that is capable of producing such beautiful music?