Van Halen Tour

I am in the kitchen washing dishes when the phone rings. I grab a towel to dry off my hands and then grab the phone. It is Julie. The only thing she said before hanging up was: “It is in fact happening, only without Alex and with Wolfgang.” I dashed out of the kitchen and headed to my closet. I grabbed the box on the top shelf and opened the lid. There it was, folded neatly under the Frankie says Relax shirt and next to the Wham piggy bank. Kyle noisily asked “Mom, who are those women?” Those are not woman honey, and in my dreams one of them was supposed to be your Daddy. He snarled his nose and walked away.

Ahhh, there they are, preserved perfectly on cloth since 1984. I will break John’s rules for what shirts you can wear to a concert for this. I have waited 23 years for this moment. I obviously didn’t think ahead realistically when I was 20. The shirt size is small. I guess I figured I would be like Mom. No matter, I will live off celery for the next 6 months to fit in it. Now the hard part is convincing John to take me to the concert. Hopefully it won’t be that difficult, I mean, I no longer want to sleep with any of them. They would have to drag their wieners through Lysol before I would even touch them, if that situation arose and I doubt it will, just saying.

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