A Letter to Ophie

Dear Chamblee,
Your mom and dad love music. After all, you are named after an original song by your dad's all-time favorite band, and coincidentally your mom's favorite cover. While in the womb, we prided ourselves in exposing you to tons of music. Records, Pandora, your daddy's guitar and mama's singin'. Live music was important too. You experienced a hometown groove with Evan Barber, who knew about you before most, Eddie's Attic with Ryan Horne (even though most of that time was spent puking in the bathroom). You rang your birth year in (and threw water) with the best of us at Widespread Panic and you boogied with mama at the Fox Theatre when BB King & Buddy Guy came to town.

But tonight, baby, you stay at home. Tonight I leave you in the trusted hands of Miss Moot. Tonight is for grown folks actin' the fool. Tonight is Garth Brooks. Garth Brooks in Nashville. Oh My Pina Coladas. I'll miss you a lot bunny. But only 'til I hear that fiddle. Then I'll just miss you normal. Maybe.

I've been pumping all week for this, and I ain't goin' down 'til the sun comes up.

With all the love I've got (save a little for your daddy),
Mama