Eh...John has always been my favorite Beatle anyway.

Once upon a time, when waking up before noon on a Saturday was sacrilegious and our shot glasses had not yet been replaced with baby bottles, Ton Ton and I went to Vegas. Shortly after our arrival, as we gazed out the window of our pyramid shaped hotel, we laid eyes on a giant billboard announcing that Paul McCartney would be playing Sin City the very next night. Sir Paul McCartney! Needless to say, my husband crapped his pants. Two minutes later, we were standing at the ticket booth inquiring about availability and prices. Good news! There were two tickets left, yay! Bad news...they were $250 a piece. Ton Ton was willing to pay $500 of money we didn't have to see one of the Beatles, but I refused. In the end, I won, and we didn't go to the show. Instead, we played the slot machines, won about $800 and lost it all before getting on the plane home. Yes, we even gambled in the airport.

Anyway... ever since that trip, the name Paul McCartney can't come up in casual conversation without Ton Ton giving me the evil eye and saying that not going to that show was "the biggest mistake of his life, Paul is old and he can die at any moment." Oh, my Ton Ton and his penchant for overreacting...

Ok, so fast-forward to this past June: I'm thirty million weeks pregnant and we find out that the Beatles' front man will be playing Atlanta on August 15 with much more accessible ticket prices. Ton Ton starts doing his happy dance..."this is great! we can drive down for the day, maybe crash at your brother's place, oh we'll have so much fun!" Yeap, that all sounded great, except for the pronoun, we. He seemed to have forgotten that by August 15, I would have a tiny person permanently attached to my boobs. I could see the disappointment in his face, so I decided to give him a ticket and permission to go to the concert with a friend as his birthday present.

And that is how Ton Ton spent this past Saturday in Atlanta, standing in a park, wiping tears from his eyes as Paul belted out "Hey Jude." He came home ecstatic, proclaiming it the best show he'd ever seen, talking about how wonderful and friendly Paul was, how he played for three hours, the energy, the lights, the fireworks...I just handed Luki to him and told him to change his diaper.

I admit it, I was a little bit jealous. The thing is, Luki has changed our lives so much; we love him in a way that we didn't even know existed before he arrived, and our love for each other has multiplied. Ton Ton, who is even more sentimental since becoming a dad, recently told me that he fell in love with me all over again when he saw me give birth to our son. Yet, Luki hasn't changed the fact that we love to rock, and go to the cinema, and try out new restaurants, and travel. And, I think it's important that we continue to do all those things...they will keep us sane and our son grounded. As much as I care about our baby, I don't want him to ever think he is the center of the universe, not even our small, three person, solar system.

So, in the end, I'm glad Ton Ton got to see one of the Beatles. It's a great story he can share with Luki when he's older. And I know that the day will come when our son's fixation with my boob will be replaced with an obsession with baseball, or playing guitar, or vacuuming WITH HIS DADDY. And on that day...I shall rock again!