I was front row center for the best show in Room 8 this morning, and it didn't disappoint. A few weeks back the script came home from school with no fanfare, so now and then we divvied up the lines as a great way to practice reading. It wasn't until last evening that Maryn let us know she wasn't allowed to have the paper with her when she did the play this morning. Gulp! I surpressed the overwhelming urge to shout out, "You mean you have to have the lines memorized?" Shouldn't she be learning the word memorized at school and using it correctly in a sentence? Shouldn't there be a note that comes home for the parent(s) to sign that states I/We the undersigned parent(s) is/are fully aware that these lines must be memorized? She never noticed my bulging eyes or the rapid rise in my heart rate, as I calmly picked up the script, and we started to practice. Lucky for us, her teacher had it under control all along, and they have been practicing the plays at school for a while now, so Maryn had a good handle on her lines. We merely had to put some emphasis on words like identify, disgrace and actually, and she was ready for her close-up. There were classroom lights, parents had cameras, and the kids provided plenty of action that made me smile for 20 minutes. When it was all over, my favorite actress asked me to stay to have lunch with her. I declined the offer letting her know I didn't want to sit in my car for 45 minutes waiting for that to happen. Someday when she's an even bigger star, she'll thank me for keeping her grounded.
Encore!
