This summer, I am working as the vocal coach for a local community theatre group. It's a children's summer program and we are putting on 101 Dalmatians. I've really enjoyed going to spend an hour or two a day with a small group of motivated kids. It's so different than my usual gig of 400 kids before lunch that I don't really know what to do with myself some days.
The cast was skimpy to begin with and a few kids had to drop out for various reasons. At the end of last week, the director decided to throw my girls in to bulk up the song and dance numbers. Because the program is designed as a day camp, Melody and Dixie are now at rehearsal from 9-4 every day this week and next.
While their summer has been rather packed with activities, this huge amount of empty has been hard on me. I'm having to put away my own dishes, if nothing else. It makes me rather glad that my original plan of being a stay-at-home mom for a few more years didn't pan out. Charlie is so content to play in his own little world that he rarely lets me in. I am being forced to deep clean and exercise in order to stay busy.
But some mornings, if I find just the right moment, Charlie will let me into his world. This morning, Charlie was being a kitty and allowing me to be 'da gwown up dat plays wif da kitty'. When he got tired of the strings and laser
lights and no longer wished to be petted, he grew wings. "Dat is why dey
call dem flying kitties."
I tossed him over a shoulder
and we began to fly around the living room and kitchen. As the pathway
were were taking became bolder and more adventurous, he protested. "You
hafta remember I am a new flying kitty dat was jest born. You hafta be
careful wif new flying kitties jest born."
After a good
hour as a feline, he's got play-doh out and is making minnows and
worms. They, too, can fly if they are bent at one end to be shaped like a
candy cane. Just like toy cars can fly, but only if they have their
doors open like wings.
I would like to fly, too, but no
one is volunteering me a ride on their shoulders.