After taking care of my nephews all day, I intended to spend last Thursday night doing two things: finishing an article on worldbuilding and revising three more chapters of Breath of Stone.
Sometimes life goes sideways. And sometimes the unexpected sideways is the best damn thing you couldn’t have planned.
My son Dev had bought tickets for himself, his friend, and his friend’s fiancé to a night with Kevin Smith in Boulder, Colorado. He has been looking forward to this so much. But when I got home from nephew-care, Dev had just heard from his friend: the fiancé was throwing-up-sick so they wouldn’t be going.
I looked at the clock—it was just barely past six o’clock—and figured I could get him there on time. So I threw on clothes more acceptable than yoga pants and sweatshirt, made sure the pups were fed and cared for, and got us on the road before 6:15pm.
Now… understand I had but the most basic knowledge of Kevin Smith when I pulled out of the driveway that night. Yeah, I knew there was a comic book show (an unavoidable tidbit if one watches The Walking Dead), and I’d seen a couple films. But I wasn’t going into this as a fan. I was instead going with my son because he’d already tried and failed to get another buddy to go on such short notice (we’re still new to Colorado, so who we know is a rather small list), and I didn’t want him to just go alone.
I mean, I figured the night wouldn’t completely suck—if nothing else, my adult son and I would have some rare time together—but my expectations weren’t much higher than that.