I think every adult should go back to high school. If only to find out that they have no discernible life skills.
I mean maybe you do. You probably do. I, apparently, do not.
I went to a special meeting for parents of high school students appearing in the school play. Here is where I discovered that I am not at all handy. I mean, I have skills. Mad skills in things like outwitting an old house armed only with paint and sheer determination.
I can balance a toddler on one hip, an infant in the other, and not manage to trip over two dogs (usually).
I can and often do make wine disappear. We all have our magic. What I can’t do is sewing, alteration, stage makeup, period hairstyles or set construction. I just never was down with drama. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy attending plays.
I love live theater. I’ve been dragging my children to watch it since they were so small they still fell asleep in the seats. Sometimes, Mr. Wonderful did too. There is just a special kind of magic in seeing people perform live. It’s funny how you go from playground assistant and class party mom of very small children who need help with everything, to parenting teens who don’t really need help at all.
At this age, it’s the fellow adults who we are really helping. At the musical meeting, I checked the whole sign-up sheet for how we felt our skills would best serve the production. I did not see a spot for rampant sarcasm and expounding at length about very little at all (punctuation optional).
Probably an oversight. I wrote them in. I can take photos and write ad copy. They might be able to use that.
I’m willing and able wherever. There is a special place in Heaven for the teachers and staff who take on the process of these extracurricular activities. The sheer volume of work, time, effort and determination needed to bring a high school production to fruition is mind boggling.
Then you get saddled with mamas like me who come armed with cameras, cookies, and no real idea what we are doing. My skill set will probably lend itself more to feeding children than making magic but that’s okay, too.
I am going to be helping run lines, felling stage fright and wrangling butterflies of the stomach variety. As a Drama Mama in the literal — not figurative — sense, I look forward to helping, however I can.
Now let’s just hope I don’t break a leg. Or anything else on set.
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