Show time - a final curtain

Last night was Curly’s 4th grade music performance.  Each grade level up to 4th grade creates a show at some point during the school year.  The music themed shows include singing, dancing, and some limited acting.  While usually cute, these performances are only tolerable because they wrap up in 40 minutes.  I can survive most things in a 40 minute time span.  

Next year Curly moves to the 'big kid' building for 5th-8th graders.  I CANNOT wait for her to attend a school she can walk to.  Mini and Reggie walk the 4 blocks to and from school currently.  Next year it will be Reggie and Curly walking.  Mini moves to high school.  (God help us all as we are forced to create a routine that includes getting Mini out of bed earlier).

One bonus to graduating from the K-4th grade building is that we will no longer pay $200 each year (per kid!) for the bus.  Technically we should be paying more than the other bus riders for receiving special treatment.  If Curly doesn't make it to the stop that is a few doors before our house, then the bus driver waits at our driveway for her.  Bless that woman!  She loves Curly, which is honestly not an uncommon Curly provoking emotion.  As grateful as I am for the patient bus driver love, I am happy not to be hollering at someone to post up at the front door to see if the bus is coming 'round the bend.  

The other bonus in leaving the little kid school behind is that those short 40 minute shows will be history.  Hey, I know I said a 40 minute program won’t kill me, but why push it?  We’ve had kids in that school (after switching from Catholic school) for 6 years.  That means some years I had multiple music programs scattered throughout the year.  These productions are always on a Thursday evening.  Without fail.  Guess who works late on Thursday nights?  That’s right.  My professional, bullet-dodging husband.  

This was sent to me along with 9 others . . . yes, NINE.  I received 9 photos similar to this gem via text message.  I thought there was some emergency when my phone exploded with text alerts.  Curly's friend's mom got there early and secured a front row seat.  How else could she have captured this keeper (and so many others almost identical to it?

Last night was my last night of music programs.  No more kids dressed in piecemeal costumes (or Sunday best depending on their role).  No more awkward pauses in the darkened gym as kids and teachers scramble to keep the flow going when someone forgets their part.  No more kids dragging their family members back to classrooms to check out school work samples and to say howdy to smiley teachers.  No more cringing at high pitched solos.  No more ear piercing moments when a kid screams his part into the microphone.

But with last night's show, we encountered a family first.  It was both unreal and almost 'normal' as far as our family standards go.  We can thank Reggie for making the evening one that we will not soon forget . . .