Get Goose

A friend of mine writes a column in the Goldsboro News-Argus. It comes out every Sunday…the perfect ending to one week, and an even better beginning to the next. She sent me the May 25th column and I’ve decided to share it with you here. Hilarious!

Yes, that’s right, it is that time of year again — ballet recitals.
They are the culmination of all the steps our little ballerinas have
been working on in dance class the past year — and a chance for moms
and dads to take lots of pictures of their budding prima ballerinas.
But those who are on the outside — and those who have boys — don’t
really understand that this is not an everyday occurence.
It is stressful.
My friends know that I suffer a bit of anxiety about these dance
presentations — costumes, the makeup and the hair, it is more stress
than I would have getting ready for my own Paramount Theater debut.
This year, the dancers’ hair was supposed to be worn in a bun. Louise’s
hair is short — much too short, I thought, to get up in a bun. So, I
had to call in reinforcements.
My friend, Betsy, armed with bobby pins, a ponytail holder, clips and a
hairnet that would make any lunch lady proud, arrived to help me beat
the bun bump in the road.
And sure enough, with all those tricks, a little water and lots of gel,
we had a bun.
All you men out there take note. Beauty comes with lots of blood, sweat
and tears. You should appreciate it more.
Our dress rehearsal was a FULL dress rehearsal — outfit, makeup, and
hair — the whole shebang. Thank goodness for a trial run on the hairdo
— it wasn’t easy for Betsy to get Louise’s short pieces to
cooperate. After 30 minutes, 50 bobby pins, 20 clips and a ripped up
hair net, most of the hair was behaving. Thank goodness she did not
have to go through a metal detector, or we would have been in trouble.
After the trial run, however, we realized we were going to need a more
powerful gel to tame Louise’s bun on the big day.
So, off we went to rehearsal — very proud of our efforts. I waited in
the wings with the other dancers’ moms and wondered how pageant moms
make it. Can you imagine having to do this every week? I would have to
take out stock in hair gel, just to make the bun requirement. I might
even need my own suitcase, just for bun supplies, not to mention the
other needs like makeup and costume maintenance items like safety pins.
Louise would need an entourage. I couldn’t handle the pressure.
I am not even sure I spend this much time on my own hair and makeup all
year long.
After the rehearsal, as Louise got out of the car, Sir Lancelot, also
known as my son, David, stared at her in amazement.
At first I thought he was touched by her beauty and poise, not to
mention her fabulous bun.
Yep, you guessed it. That wasn’t it.
My gallant son took one look at his dolled up sister and doubled over
in laughter — uncontrollable laughter, rolling around on the ground
laughter.
Thomas was more subtle. He just looked at her like she had four heads.
Nothing like brothers to make you feel great about yourself. I wanted
to strangle both of them.
But I have a plan for Louise to get them back.
The day will come when the Kings of Cool will be getting ready for
their first dates or even prom. I am preparing her script now, both as
the cute younger sister who tells all of David’s embarrassing moments
to his date and later as the annoying, all-knowing big sister who
shares with Thomas her thoughts on his smooth moves with the ladies.
I will videotape it for later use myself.
So, after all that fuss, the big day arrives and my prima ballerina is
beautiful — coiffed and dressed and smiling. She probably spent more
time getting ready than she actually did on the stage, but when she
appeared in her pink velour costume with black polka dots, she must
have felt like a princess, especially when her curtain call flowers
were carried to her on the stage.
OK, so maybe seeing my daughter so happy was worth all those bobby pins.

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