I was having a conversation with Jillian today that reminded me of a story from my Childhood.
My Elementary school put on a yearly show at a local theatre, showcasing all the “talent” of its student body. I seem to recall that there were some Choirs, Dance groups and likely a few acts from the school’s Drama Club. In one of my earlier years (can’t remember if it was Kindergarten or Grade One), I was in the Folk Dancing club and was very excited for my first on stage performance. Being that most of the dancers were 5 or 6, we didn’t have proper dance attire, but our look for the show was jeans or a jean skirt and a top. Adorable and easy.
For some reason, I took it upon myself to refuse to wear my own jean skirt and insist on wearing one of my Sister’s – all I can remember is that it was darker, which I guess I preferred. The fashion police were after me at a young age, I suppose. The skirt itself was fine in theory, but given that my sister was three years older than me and we were both on the small size of our own age groups, it was definitely too big. I’m sure I fussed enough and demonstrated that it would be fine (which it wasn’t), so Mom gave in and let me wear it. Later in life I’m sure a therapist will note examples like this as cause for my incessant need to have things go my way.
The skirt alone would have led to an amusing scene, but that was not enough for young Nancy. You see, I had these white gloves that I was just dying to wear. Seriously, white gloves. I’m not even sure why I had these, or if my Mom even knew I took them to the recital with me, but I had them and they most definitely ended up on stage.
Regardless of the little details, it ended like this: In a group of kids where I otherwise would have just been another bobbling dancer, staring at the other kids in order to remember the next move, I was the one random little girl wearing white gloves and stopping ever third or fourth step to pull up my skirt.
Star of the show, and I didn’t even know it. I’m sure its moments like these that make Elementary School recitals bearable for the crowd – comic relief and all. You’re welcome.