When I bought John his Christmas present from Sport Clips (a punch card for six deluxe haircuts), they included four tickets to our local NBA D-League, the Flash. Tonight was the game, so John and I decided to take the two boys with us.
I don't know what I don't think things through beforehand, but it was loud. And we had Griffin. He doesn't like loud noises--or not getting the things they throw into the crowd.
There was a remote controlled blimp that would periodically fly around the stadium and drop gift certificates to a local restaurant or tickets to future games. He loved seeing the blimp and was always upset that it didn't come close enough to us.
He also wanted to see the mascot. At one point he was so agitated and saying, "I just need to go out where things make sense!" that we left to walk around for a while. (The picture is John trying to explain the rules of the game to him.) While we were gone, he, of course, came up into our section. And we missed him.
Anyway, the highlight for him was probably the halftime show where a group from Bobby Lawrence Karate came and performed a Star Wars-based production with light sabers and karate/dance moves. He liked that, but not much more.
We finally left at the start of the fourth quarter. I had made no secret that I wasn't happy with his behavior through the night and that when he got home he could go right to bed. He was distraught and sure that I hated him. I told him that I didn't hate him, but was just a little upset with him. John and I decided to go downstairs and the girls informed me that he wanted them to stay in the room with him because he was so sad. They consoled him with some stuffed animals. When we finished playing Rock Band for a bit, we came upstairs to this sight:
SpongeBob should ward away all those nightmares. Pleasant dreams, ya'll!
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