The best part of the night, though, was watching a man who hung out next to us the entire time. He was there with his daughter. It was an "all ages" show, so a few people had their tween children with them. But this guy brought his 7-ish-year old daughter to the show. She had earplugs and everything and was clean and adorably dressed in her ruffled denim skirt, colorful striped tights, pink hoodie and ponytail. She was extraordinarily well-behaved. She never left her dad's side. And she complained far less than I did. (Hey, my plantar fasciatis hurts when standing in one place!) The concert was three hours and ended at midnight and she never got even close to cranky.
Apparently fathers come in all shapes and sizes because he was NASTY. He smelled outrageous. Seriously, the worst BO every time he lifted his arms. His shirt said, "The Scourge of America is Upon You." What does that even mean? He had acne worse than any teenager I've ever seen and his hair. Oh mercy, his hair. I know the picture above isn't he best (we had to be sly when sneaking a shot), but notice the long nappy hair hanging down between his arms. It was greasy and frizzy and just foul. Yet, besides taking a small child to a rock concert, and allowing a stranger (a woman) to hold his daughter on her shoulders during the entire Young the Giant performance... he seemed like a fairly attentive father. We followed them out of the concert and they were greeted outside by a woman who was clearly the mother of the girl.
So odd. If I had been more friendly I definitely would have struck up conversation with the little girl. Because I was and still am dying to know their story.
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