|My kid is in the front row, sixth one from the left|
The 4K kids went first. Adorable, as expected. Then it was time for the Kindergarten classes (two classes combined). As predicted, my petite lass was in the front row. I pulled out my camera and did some sort of awkward stand-crouch thing and snapped a photo. The kids sang a song about gingerbread men and another one called "Christmas Makes Me Sing." For the record, she did not find it all amusing when her dad and I filled in alternate lyrics while she was practicing the song at home. "Christmas makes me poop my pants" was particularly unappreciated.
After the songs were over, the Kindergarteners were unloaded from the risers and instructed to sit on the floor in front of the stage. Then all of the subsequent classes performed. A few parents left after their kid's class performed, but I felt like it was only fair to sit through the whole thing. After all of the classes had finished, the entire student body embarked on a grand finale - a song about peace that I didn't recognize. They couldn't fit all of the kids on stage, so some of the classes were led down the aisles. This is how my little buttercup came to be situated right next to me.
Now, when she was up on the stage, she looked perfect. It was dress-up day in honor of the winter concert. She was wearing a black taffeta skirt (perfect for twirling), a red glittery sweater, and a shirt under that. A velvet headband and black shoes (faux patent leather) rounded out the ensemble. However, when she appeared by my side for the finale, she had morphed into a homeless street urchin. Sweater? Unbuttoned. Shirt? Untucked. Skirt? Twisted at some odd angle and pushed down onto her hips. The piece de resistance was her hair. Apparently she had taken off the headband and attempted to put it back on, thereby creating some weird sort of hair tumor that now bulged off the side of her head. Since she was so close to me, I quickly tried to re-assemble her.
Her teacher came over at about that time and informed me that A keeps bringing chapstick to school and attempting to share it with the other kids. Mrs. L had to throw them away, which I understand completely. I guess it never occurred to me to tell my daughter: "If it goes in or on your mouth, don't share it." I mean, there are so many things in life that you just know, that it's easy to forget that common sense does need a bit of time to develop.
Anyway, the concert was a hoot and I can hardly wait for the spring version. Onward and upward.