The Dance Recital
Oh la!
So this one time . . . I was supposed to take my daughter to her dance recital. The recital she’s been looking forward to for months, the recital she asks every single morning “Mommy is my recital on the big stage today or tomorrow?”
And I finally said, “Today!”
And her eyes lit up and her world was all marshmellows and skittles coated in chocolate and sprinkles.
And then . . . well you see, I’m a total putz. I thought, for some apparently random reason that the recital started at 7:00. Did I base this belief in any actual logical process, like asking, or perhaps reading the hand-out Ms. Teacher provided. Um, apparently not.
So I’m sittting around on my delicate behind, eating bonbons and reading trashy romance novels (the way all housewives spend our time you see, except I really was), When the dh calls and says, “So what time do I need to be where?” and I think hum, perhaps I should read that hand-out from Ms. Teacher now.
I pick it up and it says, Recital at 6:00, Dancers should arrive at 5:15. And I look at the clock that says 5:15. And I look at my kids who are naked and covered in peanut butter. And think of the community center, a good half-hour drive away. And my slow slow brain, which moments before had been thinking, Lisa, you should feed and dress these children and find the dance costumes and for heavens sake, wash the peanut butter off, clicks and clicks and says Ah hem, Lisa you’re totally screwed.
And it only gets worse, much much worse, but I’ve gotta go. I’ll finish this tale of a sorry sad disorganized and desperate housewife This afternoon
Oh la . . .
The suspense is killing us, Lisa!
Comment by Ana — May 13, 2005 @ 11:22 am
I’m enjoying it thus far — please keep going!
Comment by Cathleen — May 13, 2005 @ 12:33 pm
Oh Lisa….
Comment by Mary Siever — May 13, 2005 @ 12:35 pm
Oh no….I know what my little girl would feel like!
Comment by dangermom — May 13, 2005 @ 3:06 pm
Oh, this has happened to me so many times. I may be the most spaced-out woman on the planet. From most recent:
1. Dance competition - can’t find tap shoes for preschooler. Looking for them made us 20 minutes late. Had to send her in black dress shoes. Luckily, they hadn’t started yet when we got there due to technical problems.
2. Second-grader’s 1st piano recital - she was taking an after-school piano class (after school classes are called “explorer classes” at her school). I got a note saying the recital started at 4. Then a week later I saw an item in the school newsletter saying the end of year explorer showcase started at 4:20. Then I got a reminder note about the showcase which also said 4:20. Got preschooler and baby and self there at exactly 4:20 (the door was in the front of the room). Couldn’t figure out why everyone in the room was already seated and it was dead silent. Sat down in back. Several kids played their pieces. The teacher got up and thanked everyone for coming. I raised my hand and mouthed my daughter’s name and the teacher told me, with a strained and insincere smile, that she had already performed, thank you. We stayed after and she played it again with another couple of children with clueless parents who also didn’t realize that the piano recital was not part of the showcase.
3) Tried to drop off (same, traumatized) child at school on a non-school day.
(Deep breath) Sorry, I could go on and on. Some days I think I’m unfit to raise kids. Anyone want to form a support group?
Comment by Allison — May 13, 2005 @ 4:40 pm
Oh, this gives me a stomach ache just thinking about it. My darling third grader takes a daily french immersion class. Each year they learn ‘holiday songs’ and perform them at a local mall (okay, another rant there; this is the only time I come within miles of a mall during Christmas season). This year I was helping out in her class when they were getting ready to leave so I asked if I could just drive her up with me rather than ride on the infernally loud school bus, which wasn’t even at the school when we left. We dropped by my husband’s office on the way for a couple minutes, looked in a store for a gift for a couple minutes, and are walking to the food court where they perform when she needs to stop in the bathroom. Well, it turns out to be one of those sorts of bathroom visits where I’m standing around saying, are you done yet, they are going to be starting any minute, etc. You guessed it, we get to the food court halfway through the LAST SONG (which she did get to run up and join in on). She loves her french teacher, and I didn’t know but rather than the prerecorded crap music they usually use, he had taught them some really cute things and was accompanying them on the guitar!!!! She was so crushed. I felt sick about it for days.
Comment by claire — May 16, 2005 @ 12:18 pm