6PM: Dinner Time
*Mindy edges her script across the table to me "Help me run lines?" so between tactical mouthfuls of mash potato I'm John, Michael, Tootles, Nibs and the parents.
One of my kids is playing Wendy in the camp's version of Peter Pan and for the first time I understand why my sister used to be nervous about seeing me in shows (What if she forgets a line onstage? It's in 2 hours! I can't whisper it back to her then...)
8PM: Staging Time
8:05PM
The tannoy invites freshman to begin seating in the hall. I'm sitting in the cabin 150 metres away. Damn. WHERE ARE MY PINK SHOES! DAMN! NO! I DON'T CARE ABOUT DOING THE LACES UP TWO OF MY KIDS ARE IN A SHOW TONIGHT AND I'M LATE! I'M LATE! OH GOD. I'M A TERRIBLE COUNSELOR! AWW! DAMN! RUN!
Peter Pan is one of my all time favourite stories. I've read the book and original play, done creative writing for an AS around it and seen the show (RSC'13). That's just in the last year.
I was that kid who left the window open thinking Peter Pan might come in (he didn't. Insects did). And jumped off furniture hoping to fly (you can guess how that one ended).
It's a story that grows up with you.
It was also a pretty topical story for who and where I am right now (Wendy is a young English girl, preparing for adulthood who, wanting adventure leaves her home to escape responsibilities and the idea of a conventional job and domestic life. She flies to a new land where she becomes a mother figure to a bunch of spirited children and grows up).
You don't need an education in literature to see the allegory I'm making here.
The show goes well and ends perfectly with kids standing in a far from straight line bowing mexican-wave style (getting kids to bow together is harder than trying to baptize a cat).
9:45 An Hour Past The Kid's Bedtime
I carry *Livvy across the bridge. She's that tired. It's my night off but the only time I have to do the bedtime routine with my cabin (usually at this time I'm hosting camp outs).
"Girls, find your pajamas!"
"Girls, you need to brush your teeth!"
Somewhere between nine and nineteen I must have grown up because now instead of leaving the window open, I'm the one closing it and wishing the children goodnight.
*Mindy edges her script across the table to me "Help me run lines?" so between tactical mouthfuls of mash potato I'm John, Michael, Tootles, Nibs and the parents.
One of my kids is playing Wendy in the camp's version of Peter Pan and for the first time I understand why my sister used to be nervous about seeing me in shows (What if she forgets a line onstage? It's in 2 hours! I can't whisper it back to her then...)
8PM: Staging Time
8:05PM
The tannoy invites freshman to begin seating in the hall. I'm sitting in the cabin 150 metres away. Damn. WHERE ARE MY PINK SHOES! DAMN! NO! I DON'T CARE ABOUT DOING THE LACES UP TWO OF MY KIDS ARE IN A SHOW TONIGHT AND I'M LATE! I'M LATE! OH GOD. I'M A TERRIBLE COUNSELOR! AWW! DAMN! RUN!
Peter Pan is one of my all time favourite stories. I've read the book and original play, done creative writing for an AS around it and seen the show (RSC'13). That's just in the last year.
I was that kid who left the window open thinking Peter Pan might come in (he didn't. Insects did). And jumped off furniture hoping to fly (you can guess how that one ended).
It's a story that grows up with you.
C S Lewis:“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.”
It was also a pretty topical story for who and where I am right now (Wendy is a young English girl, preparing for adulthood who, wanting adventure leaves her home to escape responsibilities and the idea of a conventional job and domestic life. She flies to a new land where she becomes a mother figure to a bunch of spirited children and grows up).
You don't need an education in literature to see the allegory I'm making here.
The show goes well and ends perfectly with kids standing in a far from straight line bowing mexican-wave style (getting kids to bow together is harder than trying to baptize a cat).
9:45 An Hour Past The Kid's Bedtime
I carry *Livvy across the bridge. She's that tired. It's my night off but the only time I have to do the bedtime routine with my cabin (usually at this time I'm hosting camp outs).
"Girls, find your pajamas!"
"Girls, you need to brush your teeth!"
Somewhere between nine and nineteen I must have grown up because now instead of leaving the window open, I'm the one closing it and wishing the children goodnight.
