Aaron got home last night at the late hour of ten p.m. after his latest performance of Peter Pan. During a lengthy scene change, he slouches on to the stage in full pirate get-up and shreds some wild solos on his saxophone. Later, I get texts from our friends: “Sherry, you’ve got yourself one jazzy pirate there!” In small towns, everyone goes to the annual musical, and so, everyone now knows Aaron in all his saxophone glory.
When we were in college, other girls used to email Aaron all the time after a jazz concert, offering to sing with him and things like that, so I have to be consoled after Aaron’s various brushes with fame. Last night, we sipped wine and read children’s stories and felt very parental, taking turns at each page and pointing out all the things worth noticing in the illustrations, like which mutts were leashless and which ones (the poodles, always) thrived under such constraints.
Below is my famous husband treating Clara to some “What Will We Do With Jolly Roger?,” a song about a pirate who laughs instead of growls.