Today, my mom took Gray, Sadie and me to see the local community theater's production of "High School Musical." On the way to meet my mom and Gray, Sadie began singing. It was the sweetest sound. I didn't know this song was part of her limited repertoire. A soft and very in-tune voice sang, "Here comes the sun...ado-do-do-do. Here comes the sun - ado-do-do-do. It's all right." She sang straight to my prideful heart.
Onto the show...I must be one of the few parents who is not well versed in the High School Musical saga or songs. I have not seen the movie. I can only liken its popularity to the movie of my generation...GREASE. Surprisingly, HSM is quite innocent in compared to the pregnancy scare and the innocent-turned-prostitute story line of GREASE. What were our parents thinking????
All in all, this performance of HSM was a great show with an incredible amount of talent. We all enjoyed it a lot. During the show, I looked over at Sadie who was absolutely glued to the performers (except for one incident referenced below). I thought - wow - she could be on that stage one day. She has such a pretty, velvety voice - prideful heart growing. What talent - she could be a star. And then...she made her best effort to clap to the songs along with the rest of the audience. I had no idea that some one could not hear the beat to a song as obviously as she didn't. Amazing. How can someone sing, in-tune, and then be completely void of rhythm, slapping hands together in such a spasmoid fashion? Isn't it supposed to be like Ebony and Ivory - side by side in perfect harmony? Prideful heart deflated and back to reality.
Ok - so when I try to describe my children to other people, it is tough to describe Sadie and her idiosyncrasies. Seriously, the child truly marches to the beat of her own drummer. This is where she became completely side-tracked at the show. We had popcorn in a typical red and white box - who knew they served this during the musical? Anyway, somewhere during middle of the second act, she finished up the box. She was frustrated by the end of the box because it was the foldable kind and she kept losing popcorn out of the bottom because she stuck her fingers through it. So, here is this empty popcorn box, normally placed on the floor of the theater and taken to the trash at the end of the show. Instead, Sadie begins to reconfigure the box into something useful. What could you possibly need at a community theater production? Why some sort of viewing device/binoculars! She pushed open the bottom of the box and started tearing off the perforated top. At this point I realized what she was doing. She wanted to use the box to view the performance - holding the empty box up to her eyes and peering through the bottom to the stage. It would block other peoples' views and when she turned to the left, she would hit unsuspecting Gray. So, I took it away and told her that she could have it at the end of the show. After each song (about 4 songs left) she would ask, in that voice that tried to be a whisper, but came out nearly a yell, if that was the last song. She was a complete ball of frustration, irritation with a smidgen of anger. At one point I told her that we would have to go outside and miss the rest of the show if she didn't stop asking about the end of the show or her box. Her response was..."Can I have my box if we leave?" UGH! And this, my friends, is Sadie. Where is that box, you might ask? Sitting on my desk (in the basement - see post 4/11, No Room in the Inn), untouched since we left the theater. I brought it in after seeing it had been discarded and forgotten in the car. Sigh.
Ah - my little perplexing and challenging and tenacious Sadie. I completely love you... wonderful, perfectly-made you!