Saturday afternoon I drove to Dickson to pick up Callia from her Aunt Jessie’s house & we stopped at TBG (the Truth, Beauty and Goodness Coffee House in Ashland City) on the way back. I got some sort of frosty coffee drink and Callia got a little chocolate syrup in her milk. We were hoping to do some kiddie karaoke, but the punk rock kids were doing sound checks for their face-ripping punk show that night. Callia liked the loud electric guitar.. which isn’t too surprising.. she loves Hendrix, Zeppelin and Funkadelic already, so I feel like I’ve done my job.
She wanted to play, but I had to explain that it was his guitar, and she’d have to wait till we got home so she could play her own. She’s got an acoustic Fender that one of my pals gave me a while back. She can’t hold it and play at the same time.. so she either lays it down and plays it like a steel guitar, or holds it up and leans it on her shoulder and plays it like a cello. She also has a harmonica and some other instruments. A couple weeks ago, she tried playing the harmonica and the guitar at the same time, but couldn’t coordinate it. Dylan himself would have proudly rambled something completely unintelligible.
She passed out when we got back into the car, so we went on home and I laid her in bed. Otherwise, I would have crashed the wedding reception at fellow comedian Leslie Nash’s house and let Callia jump on the trampoline with her daughter Emelia while Daddy scammed free BBQ.. but it wasn’t meant to be. Once she was in bed, I mowed the yard really quick and finished trimming just as it got too dark to see how poor of a job I had done.
Sunday, I took Callia horseback riding. She is obsessed with horses. We go to some stables to feed the horses there all the time, but she gets scared about touching them if they’re too aggressive. I did a Google search for “nashville horseback riding” and the first hit was Juro Stables in Mt. Juliet, which is just down Central Pike from the house.. 10 minutes away.
She was excited when we pulled into the ranch.. they’ve got a good 50+ horses there, plus peacocks (another favorite of hers) and guineas and chickens and puppies and stuff. When it was time to mount up, she freaked. I climbed up on our horse while holding her and she screamed the whole time, clinging onto my chest as if I was trying to give her away to gypsies (I get a bad rap for that. I’ve only sold her to gypsies three or four times.)
I pried her arms off of me, spun her around and sat her in the saddle in front of me. One of the trail guides led our horse around in a circle a few times and she finally calmed down and was grinning ear to ear. There were about eight people / horses in our group. By the time everybody else was mounted up, she was beaming with giddy goodness.
“We’re riding the horsey!” she’d squeal and giggle. I was a little scared about running, but when the horse trotted a bit, Callia looked like I’d just given her a popsicle and a pound of chocolate. She loved it.. so when we got the chance, we ran the horse again and again.
When we were on our way back to the barn, she said, “Daddy, I don’t want to go home! Can we do it again?” So, it looks like we’ll be back there soon.
She was too hyped up to take a nap in the afternoon, so we watched her favorite short film “The Robot vs. The Octopus Monster Saga” on the Beastie Boys dvd three or four times and then “The Incredibles.” She fell asleep on my chest halfway thru the movie.. and I’ve found that the key to being a well-rested parent is to sleep when the baby is sleeping, so I was out, too.
When we got up, we threw a pizza in the oven and watched the rest of the Incredibles. When it was over, we watched the Robot a few more times and then lit off some fireworks I bought cheap the day after the fourth (which would be July 5th, for those of you who are bad at math). With that, she was ready for bed.. so I read her a few books and snuggled her down.
I never would have thought the highlight of my weekend could ever be sitting on my back porch sharing a pizza with a two year old, but it’s pretty damn fun.
