about
Saturday, our grandkids, were in what must be now on record, as the world’s longest dance recital. 10 hours. 3 kids. 1 Mom. All in different dance lines scheduled throughout the day. To catch one performance of each would require no less than 3 hours of butt numbing attendance.
Interesting note: Out of the 50 songs and dances we endured, our family was in ……6.
When we arrived Bob’s x-wife was already there along with her husband. Bob has what I like to think of as “social disease”. It requires him to stop and talk and visit with anyone he knows. Why? Because according to Bob….”it’s just polite.” I myself am not afflicted with, “social disease”, so I had no problem moving on to try and find what ever seat would be the least torturous. Sadly, there weren’t any.
To say the recorded music was loud would be like calling a tsunami wet and windy. I’m pretty sure I saw one of my ear drums rolling down the aisle during the “Ho” number. The seniors chose their costumes from Fredricks of Hollywood. (not kidding) and their music…I can only assume from, Ho Rap productions.
I confess I did snicker a little when, during one ballet, I looked over at Jake and saw him staring ahead, vacant expression on his face, his mouth hanging slack. And laughed out loud when the lady next to him began to lean into him so she could yell, “TIWANNA IS IN NUMBER 22! I SAID….TIWANNA IS IN NUMBER 22! DID YOU HEAR ME?” ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha! Talk about a wake up call. I think Jake mighta’ peed a little.
Payback didn’t take long. I was solidly drifting in my own mind to far corners of the world, when the woman next to me screamed, GO TIFFANY! WOOOOOOOOOOOO! WOOOOOOOOOOOO! I reminded myself that she was just a proud Mom and I should be nice. Right up until she started doing the damned tap number in her seat along with Tiffany knocking into my left leg and spilling my water all over my lap.
“LADY, KNOCK THAT CRAP OFF!” I asked, politely.
The last part of the show is a blur to me. Only part I remember is Bob talking into my ear. “Are you sleeping?”
“Only during the slow numbers.”
I’d just like to say, I hope and pray these kids drop out of dance SOON. I hate this crap. HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT.
PS. My ass hurts like a bastard.
Labels: dance recitals from hell, idiot mothers, nutjobs
Suze, it's off to an interesting start. LOL! I keep thinking things have to get back to normal soon but....noooooo. No even close, baby!
Joy, can you believe how much torture those things are? I'd rather have a tooth pulled than sit through another one. Without Novocaine. Least it would be over fast. You're an angel for going to a neighbors. I only did it because it was family. And halfway thru I was ready to smash my own head into a brick wall just to escape into sublime unconsciousness.
Ass rubbing... what did I miss here?
I have been fortunate. My niece has moved from the city rec center dance classes to individuals that teach dance. This right away cut down on the number of potential acts. That and there are a whole lot less cattle calling going on ... GO GRACIE!!!! I hate that. The people seem to be much more civilized now where she is although there were a few calls slipped in.
They also kept the whole thing down to 2 hours, 2 and a half on the last performance. And during that time you have a nice little break in there two. One of their goals is to get the men back to coming to the recitals.
See it is possible to do it right. Maybe we need to share the DVD that I believe they are making so they see how to moke them suckers on through there....
At 6/19/2007 7:13 AM, 
Curly Glamour Girlie
I must sheepishly admit that I was in many of these as a kid. My poor family. Luckily, I made the choice to go with the cello over the dancing and they now see theatrical productions for free!
This past weekend, I was finishing up a show at Hofstra University. The big playhouse was rented out to one of those massive McDance Studios. I was plagued with minivans full of children in sparkly outfits. There seemed to be a direct relationship - the more roly poly the child, the more sparkly the outfit. It was scary.
Wize, I must confess, I am guilty of lying my butt off to the children. Telling them how much I enjoyed it. ahhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha! In truth, I'd rather give up a toe.
Curly,
(There seemed to be a direct relationship - the more roly poly the child, the more sparkly the outfit. It was scary.)
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HA HA HA HA! STOP THAT! It's too true not to be hysterical. Why do they do this to these kiddos? Sparkles, ruffles, everything we KNOW we should avoid if we're working on our weight, they'll stick on these children. Doesn't seem to matter if they feel comfy in it, long as they match the skinny dancers. Pahleeze! Give these kids some dance costumes that look nice on everyone.
Check your shoes before you leave.
Crabby, that makes my weekend of nephew sitting seem quite tame by comparison. lol
I hope your week is getting better.