This past weekend was the annual family trip down to the University of Maryland to attend a football game. Otherwise known to Dude as The-Best-Weekend-Of-The-Entire-Year. (And just to be clear, I’m the one who attended Maryland. Not him.)
The reason the annual trip is Dude’s favorite is because of his deep and abiding love for the Mighty Sound of Maryland. (If you type “Mighty Sound…” or “marching band” into the search bar on this blog, you will find countless entries that attest to this fact.)
We headed down to Maryland on Friday afternoon since we had to get an early start on the festivities on Saturday. (Noon games are the bane of our existence.)
Our plan was to get on the highway by 3:30pm at the latest, so naturally we didn’t get underway till 4:30pm. I-95 during Friday rush hour. Lovely.
The second I got in the car, Dude began his litany of Maryland-isms in his sing-songy voice. “All gone for the marching band. All gone for the marching band. All gone! Soon we go to Maryland. Maryland football game. Maryland marching band. All gone for the practice field. All gone. Soon we go to the practice field.. to see the Mighty Sound of Maryland! All gone for the practice field!” (This went on for three hours. No exaggeration.)
Excitement was radiating off of his skin. He wanted to get to Maryland to see the marching band. Now.
He must have been frustrated with our slow pace because at some point during our crawl along 95, Dude suddenly sang,
“Noooobody knows the trouble I’ve seeeeen. Nooobody knows my sorrow.”
Dad almost ran off the road from laughing so hard.