Holiday Shows

When you are a parent, it is expected you will sit through interminable performances of your child singing, banging instruments, and in my case, flitting across the stage. And despite my better efforts to avoid these nights, we found ourselves scrunched in between eager parents, sitting on hard chairs, as we were 'entertained' for the next hour.

I know, I know. Most parents love this stuff, and think these evenings are the culmination of all the arduous work in parenting their kid(s). My excitement, much more muted than is politically correct, was more a result of my son's excitement about performing the three songs his class had been practicing for the last month. And since this is a public school, even thought most of the families are white, Irish, and Christian, there were none of the traditional Christmas songs that I remember singing when I was his age. Let me just say how much I despise this watering down of the holidays to insure no one religious group gets offended. Who are we kidding? And why discount the religious significance of Christmas that goes beyond garland, Christmas trees, and the massive consumerism that results in non-Christian families putting up trees and exchanging gifts on this day?

My son, after much negotiation, allowed me to put him in tie and jacket, but only after I gelled his hair into spikes. He expressed his anxiousness about singing in front of so many people--all the usual expected build up to the night.

The show was ear-splitting, the song selections strange, none of them referring to this holiday season. I'm convinced the music teacher must drink heavily every day to endure eight hours of this endless cacophony. The best part, of course, is the one or two 'odd' kids, whose antics on stage keep me entertained. There is always some strange kid, whose tics, outsize personalities take all of my attention. And last night was no exception. The strange kid was a boy, a plump bespectacled boy, whose carefree performance (as in acting out the songs and doing a little robot dance in between) stole the show each time he was on the stage, much to my sheer delight. Yes, I'm one of those who laughs out loud and makes declarations like, 'he's hilarious,' with no regard for the possibility that his parents might be sitting next to us, or worse, in front of us.

The evening, thankfully, came to an end after a hair-splitting finale. My son, delighted to have performed in his first Christmas evening show, chattered away during the short walk home. I know I'm supposed to enjoy these nights since they will, too soon, come to an end. Or rather, his exuberance and delight that his parents were there, will come to an end. I'm sure in a few years, my ringing laughter will be the source of his embarrassment, so that our walk home will be sullen and quiet. Ah, the things to which we can look forward to.