"Spin around in circles until you fall down!" the band cried.
The Rooster and her friend Margaux spun like whirling dervishes.
Margaux fell repeatedly and The Rooster weaved like a drunkard.
"Now show us your belly buttons!" the band roared.
Roo and her friend exposed their bellies by pulling their 3T shirts up to their eyeballs.
At the Ralph's World concert we went to this weekend, the two girls were gone like a shot in the first few bars of the first song.
The Mayor sat clinging to my side. He intently studied the whole scene like a budding anthropologist.
The Rooster and her friend on the other hand, were down in front jumping up and down and pumping their fists in the air.
Occasionally, one of the girls would run back to me long enough to take a long pull on a juice box straw and then disappear again amongst her peers in the junior mosh pit.
Before they began their last song, the band invited audience members to join them onstage.
Margaux and The Rooster raced up the stage stairs nearly flattening the two year old set.
At first they teetered at the proscenium's edge squinting into the spotlight for a look at the crowd, but then I lost them in the throng.
The next time I spotted them I noticed they had stolen drumsticks and were banging on the drum kit like two wild animals.
Something tells me this doesn't bode well for the teen years.