Monica note: God only knows how many blog posts I will have about Eric Church, whom I lovingly refer to as EC, and the rest of Saint Louis. This was originally going to be blog post No. 5, but I moved it up to the No. 1 spot at the last minute this morning.
I wasn't quite sure how he was going to perform better than he did in Wichita, but I was willing to give him a chance.
He killed it last night. The audience sang every single word to every single song back to him. He ate it up, and we got a few extra songs out of him that Wichita (Wee-chitttt-tawwwwwwww!) did not.
His Saint Louis show is officially the best concert I've ever been to.
Wichita was perfect last month. I don't know how you can top perfect, but EC accomplished that last night.
Outstanding, solder.
Outstanding.
He said at one point last night: "If you guys keep doing this, we're going to stay here until Sunday morning."
I had a thought last night as we were leaving the Scottrade Center. I silently thanked the 20,000 people who attended the show.
You guys were fun as hell.
-----
Towards the end of the concert, EC was looking a little
rough. His shirt was hanging off the side of his chest, his long-sleeves were
sometimes up, sometimes down, and oftentimes all over the place.
He looked exhausted.
The talk that he gave the audience before he sang the song
Three Year Old towards the end of the show was amazing. He talked about his kids, who are 5 and 2, and he
said that while they’re fun as hell, they’re also crazy as hell.
This song means a lot to my Mom and I. If you haven’t heard, we know a couple of three-year-olds. I agree with EC in that they’re fun as hell
and crazy as hell.
EC kept talking, and said that he wrote the song when his
5-year-old was 3. He said it’s always one of his favorite parts of every
concert he does.
“I say that every night, and I mean that every night.”
And then he went on about how his kids are growing up. But
when he sings this song every night, his oldest son will always be three years old.
It’s one of his favorite songs. Life goes on and people grow
up, he said.
He went on, talking to the audience: We won’t always be in
this room together, but right now, we’re here. We have this moment together.
-----
My Mom and I talked a lot about the little three-year-olds we
know on the way here. We kept repeating our favorite phrases we’ve heard them
say.
“I can’t do it ever.”
“I don’t ike it.”
“Why? And don’t tell me cos. You always say dat to me.”
While pouring little K some ketchup last week, she pointed
to the spot on her plate she wanted me to put it on: “Just a lil bit, Monica. Not too much.
Just a lil bit.”
These phrases have become a staple in our every day lives.
--
Two Days ago
Picture this: We're on the interstate, which in Missouri, means we're participating in a NASCAR race. There are people drafting me, the speed limit doesn't exist and turn signals, well, what are those again?
Also like NASCAR, people only turn left. People in Missouri honestly do not know that the right lane of the interstate exists.
The drive from Columbia to Saint Louis was miserable. It was the worst road I've ever driven on.
I needed a cool refreshment to tame my anger towards Missourians.
Me: Can you get
me a drink from the cooler in back?
Mom: I can’t do it
ever.
--
A few months ago, the twins were in my house. I had my music on, and I played them the live version of Creepin.
This was back when they couldn't pronounce my name right. I was Aunt Monca, Aunt Monka (with an emphasis on the "monk" part of it), or Aunt Monta, depending on which twin you asked and what mood they were in that day.
Little red-haired girl was not impressed with the song. She was confused, because the live version of the song sounds different than the recorded version of the song.
Red-headed child: Monca, that not Creepin.
Me: Red-haired child, it is Creepin. It's just a different version of the song.
Red-head: That not Creepin. I know Creepin. That not Creepin.
Me: It's live.
Red-head: That not Creepin.
I seriously argued with a 3-year-old about a song.
I did not win.
--
The other day, I told the little curly haired girl that I
loved her. I leaned in to give her a hug and a kiss, but she resisted and
wouldn’t reciprocate.
She stuck her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes at me.
She told me: “I know Monica. You tell me that all the time.”
OKAY, THREENAGER. I’M SORRY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.
Children.
I tell the curly-haired girl the same thing that my Gamma
told me: If you keep doing that, your eyes are going to get stuck in the back or your head forever.
I was a gullible kid, and I believed my Gamma.
J
-----
Last week, the twins were bickering over whether Pugs fart
or not. Watching and listening to them bicker is one of my favorite things to
do. I pulled out my phone to video them, but by the time I turned the camera
on, they moved on to arguing about something else.
I can listen to them bicker forever. Actually, I can listen
to them forever, regardless of whether they’re arguing or not.
I think this song just became one of my favorites because of
these two little girls.
Three Year Old
Use every crayon color
that you've got
A fishing pole sinks faster than a tackle box
Nothing turns a day around like licking a mixing bowl
I learned that from a three year old
A fishing pole sinks faster than a tackle box
Nothing turns a day around like licking a mixing bowl
I learned that from a three year old
A garbage can is a
damn good spot to hide truck keys
Why go inside when you can go behind a tree?
Walking barefoot through the mud will knock the rust
right off your soul
I learned that from a three year old
Why go inside when you can go behind a tree?
Walking barefoot through the mud will knock the rust
right off your soul
I learned that from a three year old
You can be a cowboy on
the moon
Dig to China with a spoon
Talk to Jesus on the phone
Say I love you all day long
And when you're wrong, you should just say so
I learned that from a three year old
Dig to China with a spoon
Talk to Jesus on the phone
Say I love you all day long
And when you're wrong, you should just say so
I learned that from a three year old
Mama is an angel, I
heard him tell the man upstairs
He went on and on and back and forth like God was laying there
Tonight, I sleep me down to lay and pray to keep my soul
Yeah, I learned that from a three year old
He went on and on and back and forth like God was laying there
Tonight, I sleep me down to lay and pray to keep my soul
Yeah, I learned that from a three year old
You can be a cowboy on
the moon
Dig to China with a spoon
Talk to Jesus on the phone
Say I love you all day long
And when you're wrong, you should just say so
I learned that from a three year old
Dig to China with a spoon
Talk to Jesus on the phone
Say I love you all day long
And when you're wrong, you should just say so
I learned that from a three year old
Sometimes, all you
need is a hand to hold
Couple arms to kill the cold
And when I'm wrong, I should just say so
I learned that from a three year old
Yeah, honey, I learned that from our three year old
Couple arms to kill the cold
And when I'm wrong, I should just say so
I learned that from a three year old
Yeah, honey, I learned that from our three year old
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