Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Bowyer Family Talent

We Bowyers like to think of ourselves as contributing members of society. We pay our taxes, recycle, and volunteer months of our time to organize a youth soccer tournament for the community. We’re kind of like Jesus, except we can’t turn water into wine. Which is pretty disappointing.

But most of all, we know how to party. Whether it's a family vacation to Sun Lakes, a New Year’s party at our house, or an infamous Jam Session, we love to have a good time. When our parents threw Lindsay a party for graduating college, Dad got enough beer to put an elephant on its ass.

Lindsay: Dad, you got a lot of beer.
Dad: I know! This party is going to be off. The. HOOK!
Lindsay: Yes, but there are going to be kids here. Little kids.
Dad: So?
Lindsay: Well what are they going to drink?
Dad: I got a couple of packs of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. 

One time, at Sara's 7th or 8th birthday party, Dad was wearing a shirt that said "I'll give up beer when I give up breathing." Lindsay pointed out that maybe that shirt wasn't the best choice for a little kid's birthday party, so instead of changing his shirt, he just turned it inside out. 
Even Grandma can hold her own. Though she usually sticks to wine nowadays, that woman could throw back a shot of vodka and be ready for another while you were still cringing in anticipation.

Grandma: You’re lucky you’re drinking beer and I’m drinking wine.
Sara: Why is that?
Grandma: If it was vodka, I’d be drinking you under the table.

This last weekend, we had a jam at our friend’s house up the street. For those who have never been to a Bowyer jam session, it consists of us attempting to play music with our Uncle Mark on guitar, but everyone else is drinking so they think we sound awesome regardless. But on this particular occasion, we put a lot of time and effort into producing a quality show for the guests. For the last month we practiced in the kitchen a few times a week while Dad gave us insightful feedback such as “Bazinga!” or “That song was titties!”

Dad: That was TITTIES!
Sara: Dad, can you refer to our songs as something other than titties?
Dad: Why? Who doesn't love titties?! Why do you think I am attracted to your mother?
Sara: Wow, Dad. That is something I never needed to think about. Ever.

We tried as hard as we could to be professional while performing. Sara even refrained from saying anything profane over the microphone, which is a fucking miracle. But, inevitably, Lindsay made up for Sara’s lack of vulgarity. Lindsay does a lot of the singing in our little band (we're really reluctant to call it a band because that signifies a certain level of talent/competence/committment/pressure), but she doesn't play an instrument like everyone else. She plays the tambourine sometimes when the song calls for it. 

During a particular song, Lindsay took a break from singing and played the tambourine in one of Sara's songs. She looked up and noticed her Grandmother giving her a thumbs up, hitting the person next to her in the arm, and pointing and laughing at Lindsay. 

Lindsay at the end of the song into the microphone: I'd just like everyone to take note of the fact that my 90 year old Grandmother is making fun of me for playing the tambourine. 
Grandma: <still laughing>
Lindsay: You know, support services are an important component of all properly functioning groups.
Grandma: <laughs more>
Lindsay: <flips her Grandma off>
Grandma: <continues laughing>

At the end of the night, we walked home along with some friends from the party who were crashing at our house rather than trying to drive home. Good work, friends. Responsible partying is the best kind of partying.

Soon we decided we hadn’t gotten into enough shenanigans for the night, so we ran over to our neighbor’s yard and went on their zipline a few times. We tried to be quiet, but I’m sure you can imagine how quiet a group of drunken young adults trespassing in order to play on a device designed for young children could possibly be. (Sorry Scott and Jill!)

What? Our neighbors told us we could use the zipline when we wanted! And besides, we all stepped in dog crap anyways so…karma got to us in the end.

1 comment:

  1. boo for dog crap! took a bit to get that off.