My son loves monster trucks…it’s one of his passions. Monster Jam to be specific. Superman Truck … got it. Batman Truck … got it. El Toro Loco Truck … got it. Monster Mutt Dalmatian … got it. Grave Digger…got three.
Since they happen to be in town we made plans to visit the stadium. However the baby was not welcomed as it was definitely an ear-plug event. So as we waited for my mom to arrive we scrambled to get everything set for a stress-free babysitting adventure.
All was set, we were ready to go. Ready to make the hour-long drive to the stadium and we had 45 minutes before the vrooom-vrooom began. As we jumped in the car I did the mom-thing. The checklist.
Son’s Jacket–Got it.
Son’s Beanie–Got it
Backpack diaper bag with emergency underwear, pants, shirt, pull-ups, wipes, socks and pajamas–Got it.
Gas in the car–Got it.
Entertaining toy for car ride–Got it.
What do you mean, what?
Apparently we’ll just get them at the stadium. Last night of the event and he says don’t worry, we’ll get them at the stadium. Just walk up to the box office and purchase them … just like that.
I didn’t want to be “Debbie Downer” but I’m in the habit of always getting tickets before the event. Having them in my hand, smelling the cardboard, feeling the grooves of the bar codes, assuring the row F, seats 20, 21, and 22 are mine. But I wanted to stay positive so I maintained silence and just had the vein in my neck bulging and blood pressure rising, because I sure didn’t want to tell my son we weren’t going.
After sitting in traffic we arrive at the stadium fifteen minutes after the first race began as we pull up I see it in big red letters…SOLD OUT. TONIGHT’S EVENT SOLD OUT.
I give him…the look.
For the past hour and change my son has been raving about which monster truck would win the race, which one would go the highest, and where we would park.
“Don’t worry…I’ll get tickets.”
“How you going to get tickets. It’s sold out and you’re going tell him.”
“I’ll get tickets.”
“I don’t think they have alternative methods at this stadium.”
“Every stadium has alternative methods. I’ll be back.”
So I sit and wait in the car with my son. Trying to convince him that bowling is just the most exciting event to do right now.
Ten minutes later with a little less cash in his wallet, he taps on the window.
Apparently we did need our earplugs that night. Considering our last-minute purchse methods, our seating arrangements were surprisingly pleasant. No nose bleeds. No obstructed view. Row F. Seats 20, 21, and 22 … and a happy son.