We stood in the doorway looking for the kids’ grandma. She found us before we even saw her.

“I was looking for you in the bleachers,” she told me.

I gave her a quizzical look. “Seriously? Why were you looking for us already?” I said, showing her my watch, which clearly said we were 6 minutes early.

She laughed, realizing that it was actually pretty ridiculous to be looking for me before the concert had started.

Soon after we sat down in the first row of bleachers, Logan began to rummage through Grandma’s purse and scored a little bag of Tootsie Rolls, which he immediately began to plow through. Between snacking on “Tertsie” Rolls, reclining into various positions with Grandma and me as pillows and marching back and forth in time to one of the songs, he stayed entertained for quite awhile.

By the time it was Rachel and Andie’s class’s turn to sing though, roughly an hour had gone by and Logan had had enough. “I want the concert to be over!” he wailed as the 4th and 5th grade classes silently exchanged places up front. Several people snickered and nearby parents who were trying to keep their little ones corralled looked quite sympathetic to Logan’s plight.

Grandma got him distracted by fishing out some fruit snacks from the depths of her purse as I watched the 5th grade assemble. Our school is small and the girls’ class is by far the biggest one. Due to its large size, the 5th grade was able to sing in three-part harmony.

I was enjoying listening to the girls, trying to block out the tone-deaf boys, and noticed that one girl’s voice in particular was quite loud and clear with a beautiful tone. With a shock, I realized that there was a mike pointed straight at Andie and it was her voice I was hearing. I looked at Grandma and said, “That’s Andie?” She nodded, all smiles.

I couldn’t believe it. I hear Andie sing all the time around the house and in church, but it was something entirely different to hear it this way. If my pride had been visible, it would have filled that entire gym. I listened in awe as she belted out song after song, her voice distinct above the others.

In the meantime, Logan, on a sugar high from the Tootsie Rolls and fruit snacks, was just about climbing the walls. He stood in front of us and jumped up and down like a crazy man, looking for all the world like Mike Myers in that SNL sketch where he plays a hyperactive kid harnessed to the swing set and he keeps trying to run away, limbs and head all over the place, but bounces back every time. If you’ve ever seen it, you know exactly what I mean.

Finally the concert ended with an announcement that they would be selling ice cream sundaes in the lobby. Logan tried to make a quick dash for the door before anyone else had even thought about getting up.

And then Grandma offered the last, and best, treat of all:

“Logan, would you like some ice cream?” she asked.

“Yeah!!” he beamed, jumping up and down some more like a marionette on speed.

It was then that I knew bedtime was a long, long way away.