Oct 28, 2010

Cultural People

The end of the term is looming.  I'm tired of nagging.  But the concert report is due right now.  Too late to turn in all the overdue English homework except for the reading log (which she flung herself on the floor and, in despair, announced she couldn't possibly remember how much she read every day for the entire quarter.  I focused on my eyes.  Do. Not. Roll.)

"I don't know what to write about!" she wailed.  Every suggestion I made was struck down.  Her dad came home.  He made similar suggestions and she interrupted him and struck her dramatic roots.  She just turned 13 last week, you know.  Let's not waste any time torturing her parents with the teenage angst.

In frustration, I grabbed a paper and wrote an eloquent paragraph on one of the medleys played at the concert.  I was there.  I simply asked her out it made her feel.  "Dramatic," she announced.  Figures.

I wrote a lovely snippet about the Phantom of the Opera medley, spouting off the songs that were included. 

Note:  Don't you be judging me for doing my daughter's homework.  First of all, it was one, measly paragraph.  Second of all, you know you're guilty of the same. 

At this point I continued with a flowery tie-in of other compositions by Andrew Lloyd Webber.  Actually, I left lines for her to fill in the blanks.  I figured she could do a little research.  I thought wrong.

"Who is Andrew Lloyd Webber?" she wailed.  My husband and I explained his role. "I'm too tired to do any research!" She slumped in the chair.  It was true.  She'd reached the end of her cheery disposition for one day.  I jumped in.  "He wrote Cats," I offered, remembering the amazing experience - and somewhat disconcerting - of watching actors act like cats on the East End of London. "And Evita," one I'd not seen on stage.

"Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat," my husband announced. "Jesus Christ, Superstar," he continued.  We looked at each other, remembering Joseph, Superstar, and Phantom.  Amazing experiences.

"We saw those together," I said in awe.  "We used to go to the Symphony and ballet, too. We had culture." Long stare and reminiscing. "Why don't we ever..."

"I'm out of toilet paper in here!" one child yelled.

Another ran up to display his lovely face art of black grease pens, his eyes barely noticeable.  "Look!  I put on these sunglasses and I disappear!"

The 10 year old farted.

Ah.  That's why.

8 comments:

Karen and Gerard said...

Kids change everything!

Stopping by from Writer's Workshop. Here's mine: http://zemeks.blogspot.com/2010/10/historical-event-i-would-like-to-have.html

ournextchapters.com said...

Oh the joys of parenthood! ;)

We're not big Andrew Lloyd Weber fans... but I can see those memories meant a lot to you.

ps- Totally guilty over here! lol

June Freaking Cleaver said...

I'd totally want you to do MY homework...and hum Broadway tunes while you do it.

I could use some culture.

Eve {beautiful spit up} said...

Too funny! I used to go to shows too, but alas my culure has gone down the drain...or maybe it was sucked away by my breast pump that I have take with me every time I leave the house. Who knows! Needless to say, I need some culture in my life too....

Stopping by from Mama Kat's!

EmptyNester said...

One day, you'll have those romantic times back! Oh, and I WAS totally guilty of the homework thing from time to time...maybe...not really...yes I was! LOL

Kaye said...

Dang those nutsy band directors that require concert reports!!! So, how was the "Phantom" paragraph??? Was it about a certain band we know and love???

kat said...

I was walking through town today and saw that in December our city wil hae both Lord of the Dance (I love them! Seen them twice...ten years ago) and the Russian Ballet. As I opened my mouth to suggest we go our 6 month old screamed and our three year old peed her pants. Maybe in another ten years!

CountessLaurie said...

Somday I will be able to go to these things again. In the meantime, I just annoy my children by answering their questions with ALW song lyrics.

Drives 'em nuts and they are only 5 and 7. Wait til they are teens ... bwaa haaa haaa!