One of the perks of my job is the occasional free sporting event sponsored either by my own company (entertaining our clients) or by one of the companies that considers me a client. Tonight, one of those companies sponsored a "Molly's Company" night out to watch the Denver Nuggets play the LA Lakers. My standard answer to invitations to these events is, "If I can bring my son, then I'm in." It's hit or miss. Tonight's game, was a hit.
So, we were treated to a private room, lots to nosh on, and much like a time share deal, we had to sit through a quick informational meeting about the sponsoring company. The Kid was quite good through the meeting, drawing on napkins and eating potato chips. I think he gets that it's all part of how mommy gets to take him to do him cool stuff.
One of the downsides to this is that The Kid ends up thinking that all sporting events are private parties, with access to players, mascots, free stuff. I took him to a baseball game last year (paid for it myself, so we sat in the $5 seats), and at one point he turned to me and said, "So, when do they bring the dessert cart by?"
The Kid is one of those extraordinary individuals that amazing things always seem to happen to him. Remember the VIP seats at e-Town? Every time we go somewhere, something happens. He once met David Lee Roth, which I realize is extraordinary or not depending on where you stand on the whole Dave/Sammy debate, but it is something that most of us have NOT done, so there's that.
Back to tonight: The Denver Nuggets have just about the best mascot since the San Diego Chicken. Okay, Rocky is cooler than the chicken. The person that in in that suit is seriously a body actor in the Andy Serkis realm. He is capable of scaling the interior of the Pepsi Center. It's pretty cool.
The Kid decided that he was entitled to meeting Rocky. I had to explain that Rocky was working and that he doesn't meet kids during the game, as the lame dinosaur of our local baseball team does. The Kid wouldn't take no for an answer. And, sure enough, as if The Kid bent his will, Rocky climbed up (no, like literally. He climbs over chairs and people right through the middle of the section. Rocky don't take the aisle, yo.) into our section and climbed pretty much right over our heads, but he did not stop at us. The Kid was so psyched, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to HUG him. He wanted to MEET him. So The Kid sulked. I was with coworkers. It wasn't pretty.
One of my favorite co-workers was next to us through the game. He's met The Kid numerous times, as he is one of my favorite co-workers. He's also a grandpa. So, at The Kid's sulking, his grandpa gene kicked in, and sure enough, after halftime, he appeared with a beanie with the Nugget's insignia and Rocky on it. If I didn't know this co-worker and his tendancy to take his grandchildren to every cartoon character on ice and spend more money on crap in the concourse than on the tickets for the show. So, I accepted the gift, and The Kid just about cried. I always cringe when The Kid is given anything after being a brat, but he can just always seem to make it work for him. The hat made his night. Literally: