The Talent Show. Can I hear a collective groan? I hate sitting through all things related to theater. I know that makes me sounds like backwater hick, but I'm just not that into plays and music (anything other than a good rock concert). Ask Karen about the time I fell asleep (and both of our husbands did, too) in the King and I off Broadway. I just don't have the "enjoy theater" gene. Even when my own kids are in it, I consider it just something I have to get through.
Back in Ohio, I used to feel really sorry for my neighbor whose daughter was in the school talent show every year. I mean, who would want to go and sit there and listen to all of THAT? It's one thing to listen to your own "talented" kid. It's another to listen to someone else's "talented" kid. That sounds so mean, I know.
So you can imagine my "excitement" when Declan announced he wanted to be in the school's spring talent show. I was also slightly surprised because I was unaware that Declan had a talent that could actually be performed on a stage. I himmed and hawed around and nothing more was said.
Two weeks passed. The talent show tryouts were the next day when BOTH boys suddenly informed me of their intent to be in the show. I wasn't in the mood. You want to be in the talent show? Really? What is your talent? Oh yes, I actually said that. I bet I scarred their little self esteems for years to come because I apparently don't believe they have talent. But they also apparently think that you can just jump up and do something, anything, on stage and that constitutes being part of a talent show.
On the morning of tryouts, I was at work. Eamonn called me to inform me that Declan wanted to try out for the show after school. Good grief, that kid wasn't going to be denied. Three of his friends had come up with dance moves to a song by Flo Rida (who Declan was calling Flouride--I'm just hip enough to know that wasn't quite right) and they had plans to teach Declan the moves at lunch and then try out after school.
I didn't see this ending well. I expected I would do a lot of cringing on his behalf.
I was wrong.
In fact, the four boys had actually come up with quite a good routine to good 'ol Flo Rida's Right Round and everyone in the tryout room was rocking along to the music. Including me.
So tomorrow night will find me enduring a show that is both theatrical and musical and maybe doing a little bit of cringing, but not dreading it too badly.
Nevermind that the Flo Rida song didn't make it past the school censors and the boys are now doing a routine to Weird Al Yankovic's White and Nerdy (a parody of Ridin' by Chamillionaire and Krayzie Bone--I don't know who either of these people/groups are, by the way).
Nevermind that we parents drove them to each other's houses three days a week and bought pizza and made snacks to make sure they had time to practice.
Nevermind that every time they got together they couldn't be bothered to practice and played instead.
Nevermind that they don't really know all of the lyrics because Weird Al raps crazy fast.
Nevermind that they plan to throw t-shirts to the crowd because they think they are actually real rappers.
Nevermind that I then was coerced into setting up and tearing down for the show.
I will be there in the audience, in my official "Rolling Heads" (band name) t-shirt sitting through a theatrical/musical show that I typically dread. In the end, it will be fun and they will be no more or less cringeworthy than any of the other acts on stage (except maybe for hula hoop girl--she was pretty impressive). And for the rest of their lives they will remember the third grade when they were in The Show and they felt famous for 2 minutes and 54 seconds.