Fab Four, mon.

I was picking up groceries in Tucumcari this evening when Grant called and asked me to add three six-packs of Red Stripe and a half-dozen racks of ribs to the cart.

“We’ve got guests willing to sing for their supper,” he explained.

I came home to find a guy with dreadlocks in my front yard, setting up steel drums. He grinned at me as Grant came out to help me unload the groceries. “I figured Red Stripe would go well with reggae,” Grant said. “The Four Little Birds checked in right before I called you. They’re going to entertain our other guests this evening while I barbecue.”

“I see,” I said. “Who are our other guests?”

“A couple from Australia with a 4-year-old named Penny; a young soldier’s wife with a 2-year-old; and a couple of Swedish travel writers,” Grant said.

I assumed the Four Little Birds were a Bob Marley tribute band, but as it turned out, they were actually a Beatles tribute band that played Marley-style covers of old Beatles tunes.

You have not lived until you have watched a toddler and a 4-year-old dance to a reggae version of “Got to Get You Into My Life.”

— Sierra

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