The Ballet

I took Lakeland to see "The Nutcracker" last night.

We arrived a bit early, even though I had to drive around in an endless loop searching for parking and, finding nothing within a mile vicinity, pulled a 'Hoort*' and parked right next to the curb by the front door of the community theatre. 

Once inside the theatre, among the parents and kids milling about stood people behind folding tables full of fundraising items. You could purchase a wee toy nutcracker for $15, but since I recognized them from one of those dollar stores, I passed.  The other option to show support for NOVA ballet was by purchasing room temperature bottled water and candy, each for $1.  I gladly threw down $3 for Skittles for LL, a Twix for me, and one pint of water.

Off we headed to our seats, which were exactly in the middle of the row.  While the location provided a great view of the stage, you do, of course, have to have balls of steel to sit in the center with a four year old, because the chances that you'll have to leave in the middle of the performance and crawl over people while wearing a dress and heels are fairly high.  Thankfully, she was sufficiently entranced by the dancers and content to crunch her way through a whole bag of Skittles for the entire first act.

At the beginning of Act II, Lakeland spontaneously jumped out of her seat and commenced imitating the every move of the Sugar Plum Fairy, including pirouettes with arms gracefully reaching toward the heavens.  I could hear the delighted tittering and hushed "awww's" of audience members behind us as I gently tapped LL on the shoulder and motioned to her to take a seat.  "But mommy!" she whispered in that kid way that's not really whispering, but more talking at their regular decibel level only more gravelly, "If I don't practice right NOW, I won't remember the moves when we get home!"  I reassured her (in an actual whisper) that we could watch the ballet again at home and she responded by yelling "WHAT WAS THAT, MOMMY?"

Once seated, she motioned furiously to me that she needed a drink of water.  I clawed around in the dark for the bottle of water, found one that I hoped was ours, and handed it to her before returning my attention to the Arabian dancers.

Then, just as the Chinese dancers were tip-toeing on stage, Lakeland choked.  She choked on water, and was loudly coughing, sputtering, and burping.  And then, all of sudden, she puked water and an entire fucking rainbow of skittles onto both her lap and mine.

I guess most parents would have packed up their stuff, grabbed their dripping, vomit-covered child, and high-tailed it (as much as you can high-tail over people's knees, purses and water bottles while shuffling awkwardly sideways in a dark room) out of there.  But not me.  My mom and dad paid $67.00 for those ballet tickets, and I was not missing the Waltz of the Flowers, because that's the best part...unfortunately, it's also the second to last scene.

While Lakeland steadily questioned me in her special whispering way about the ending location of her spew ("Dress, mommy?  And tights?  And shoes?  And you?"), I grabbed her faux fur coat, hastily swiped it across my own lap, and then tucked it tight around her now vile crushed black velvet dress, hoping to somehow sort of seal her up because she smelled an awful lot like an elementary school bus.  Then I ignored her continuous pleas to go home and waited for the Waltz.

During the final scene of The Nutcracker, when Clara's parents rouse her from her sleep, I gathered our things and prepared to haul ass out of there.  Because not only were we both covered in sour fruit smelling Skittle bits, but I was also illegally parked.

And isn't it nice that during the holidays people are so thoughtful?  The crowd magically parted to let us though, as if they somehow sensed we were in a hurry.  Magical.

* "Pulling a Hoort" means you park where ever you feel like parking... named after the late Ron Hoort, who I miss very much.  Fortunately, he bequeathed his gift of doing whatever he wanted to his elder son Todd...