Advice from my Son

Work continues to be busy, with us preparing to move to computerized sales and assigned seating. Today was spent calling all the people who have already bought tickets to this weekend and assigning them seats. Most people I talked to were happy about the change as it means less waiting in lines for them and no more seat scrambling before the show starts. A few people were curmudgeony that we have the center five rows as the 'premier' seating section that costs extra per ticket. One lady debated with me for five minutes saying 'so if you don't sell those seats are you going to leave five rows of empty seats?' I said 'yes.' And if the other seats all sell out and all I have left is premier seating, then that is all I have for sale for that show. It is possible that we could sell those seats to walk-ups at a discount if that is what the board wants us to do to fill the seats, but until we are authorized to do that then the better seats cost more or you can't sit there. And isn't this what other theatres do? Call Bass Concert Hall and buy a $40 ticket for a $40 seat. If you want a better $50 seat, you can have that...for $50. But this lady was indignant. I finally got her to tell me where the hell she'd like to sit and she says "Oh we always like to sit in the front row." Front row is not charged as premier seating as it is too close for most people, like in a movie theatre. This lady was well aware of that. So why did she argue with me and give me such a hard time about premier seating costing $5 extra if she didn't ever want to sit in premier seating and was never going to be asked to pay that $5 fee for the crappy front row seats she 'always' wants to sit in? I swear some people just want to give you a hard time for no reason. I bet she hates every show she comes to and complains to anyone who can hear about how awful she thinks we are. Then buys another ticket for the next one. Sheesh.


I haven't been blogging as often this week. Been too busy living; going to work, to the grocery store, cooking dinner and reading. Just now I had to force myself to stop reading the fabulous book I have had in my hand for about two hours now. I had to post an update or people think I am taking a turn for the worse. But you know, I think I am getting past the times when every day could bring a new trial. I am cautious about being excited and effusive when people ask me how I am doing and if I am done with treatment. I tell them I am doing well and that I think I am done. I don't want to jinx anything. So I'll leave it at that.

Jackson and I had lunch with Mom and Tonya yesterday. They brought Jackson a set of rubber cars that came with a bucket with a lid that closes to carry them.
I decided to designate these as 'work cars' as my house is covered floor to ceiling with cars of every shape, size and color. So they live in my car and for the past couple of days he has carried the bucket by the handle from the car into work and taken them out to play with and to trip unsuspecting theatre patrons and tech crew members. I try to keep them out of the traffic areas, but it is difficult. People are somewhat used to watching their step in the lobby, he's had his toys and random office supplies strewn about the place since he was old enough to do so.

Jackson is talking so much now and coming up with such funny things to say. He says things I know we have not taught him; he has to be learning a lot from his playhouse Disney cartoons. Today while I was cooking dinner he said "That's a nice lot of potatoes you got there." I stopped washing the potatoes and I asked him to repeat it and he said it again quite clearly. WTF? What cartoon would teach him that?

Last night I gave in a got in the bathtub with him. He asks me every night to get in with him and every once in a while I do. He got tired of the bath before I did so I wrapped him in a towel and sent him out to his Dad. After he was dressed he came back in, all excited to see me still in the tub. He cautioned me, as I often caution him, "Mamma, no poo poo in the bathtub." I told him gravely, "No Jackson, I am not going to poo poo in the bathtub." And I didn't. The End.