Last night, we had a sitter and Chris and I were out for dinner with my mom and dad. We were dining at Red Sky, which is a smart al fresco restaurant at top of a hotel, fifty-five floors up. I was actually pretty grumpy as the evening started, as the plans had gone awry earlier today due to missing a river taxi stop and a very cranky child. I was working on my salad with duck, trying to rally, when I noticed that the gentleman providing live music on an electronic keyboard was wearing a purple dinner jacket and wore his hair in shoulder-length braids. And he was singing a jazzy version of the theme to The Flintstones. Hearing a song from my childhood sung fifty-five stories above the chaos of Bangkok was just so delightful that it totally turned my mood around.