There's singing. There's dancing. There's that one guy at the front who's dancing to his own beat, oblivious to what the rest of the crowd is doing. There are people falling down and running into things. New friendships are forged based on the pure awesomeness of today's good vibes. As the show progresses, there are guys in various stages of undress. You'll probably see some PDA.
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| My kid is in the green hoodie. The kid beside him is a stranger. Boy on the right is getting fresh. |
The leader is a crazy cat lady looking hippie with hair down past her butt. She's super fake excited about boats and monsters and whatever today's theme is. She has songs and motions and cargo pants. Kids rush the stage. They'd crowd surf if only they knew how. She has to ask them to sit down and remember the safety of others. These rebels do neither!
Having a toddler is like being a DD all the time. You're expected to be the more responsible between the two of you. You're expected to get your person home in one piece. You're expected to keep up with his coat and bottle and bag. You follow behind him picking up the trail of debris he left behind in his public angry outburst. You're expected to point him in the right direction when he runs into the table, and you are almost always discouraged from escalating the situation when he gets into a fight with a stranger. You apologize to the other DDs on his behalf when he steps on a finger or pushes past someone, and they nod and smile like it ain't no thing, because their little drunk person barely noticed. You can all smile and laugh in unison when your person geeks out to a particularly moving rendition of Skinnamarinkee Dinkey Doo, because man, that's the jam.
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