You know the phrase, " At ______ (o'clock) anything is funny." For example, "At 3:00 in the morning anything is funny."Last night was the opening of my kids' show at Creative Stages Youth Theatre. The play is titled "Funny at Birth" written and directed by the Artistic Director, Jim Gradillas. He is one of my favorite people. My daughter is the Asst Stage Manager, and my son is part of her crew for this show. The "after party" was a celebration of one of the cast member's birthday at IHOP. They spent two hours torturing waitresses and snorting eggs out of their noses. At least no one danced on the table. Not yet. Christmas future...
I picked them up just before midnight. When we pulled into the driveway, my son was asleep and my daughter was just getting started. She needs to decompress. Like her mom.
The boy kicked off his vans outside, peeled his shirt in the kitchen and walked out of his jeans in the doorway to his room. He crawled into bed, wrapped the comforter around himself, and rolled up into a ball. A size 11-wearing toddler.
The girl on the other hand needed. She needed. Attention. Many many minutes of attention. I love that about here. She regaled me with blow by blows from backstage. The kicking of asses, the pleading of tears, and the hugging of fears. As she processed she realized an hour later how much she loves stage managing. Once that realization began to gel, she needed to work through this major shift in self-perception. Relaying this brick and mortar inside her skin - inside her bones - and ultimately within her spirit NEEDED to happen right then. And so she labored and I supervised. My girl fascinates me.
Just before 1:30AM I suggested that she needed to sleep. She had rehearsal for one show tomorrow afternoon and was ASM for "Funny" that night as well. "But I n-e-v-e-r get to you have you all to myself for this long. Please! Please can we stay up longer?" I gave her 15 more minutes. I could have stayed up with her all night and some day in the not so distant future I'm sure I will.
Eventually I made my move toward the kitchen. She jumped up and blocked me from entering the hall. She had that look. Her eyebrow cocked, smiled crooked, and eyes narrowed.
"Come on Sweetie Pie, you've gotta go to bed."
"No I don't." But she said it with a british accent which I must say, at 1:30 in the morning, confused. me.
"C'mon Peanut, let's go."
"You Americans can't do anything right. You can't even sing a lullaby properly." Again with the accent. "We are so much better educated than you because we have wizardering schools..." followed by more random stuff and she concluded her speech by saying, "Because I'm British."
I thought I was going to pee in my pants right there.
I'm here to tell you that at 1:30 in the morning, after decompressing with a 14 year-old girl for an hour and a half, "Because I'm British." is not just funny. It's hilarious!
And then she knew she had me. So for another half an hour she speechified me and randomly added "Because I'm British." I finally walked her down to her room. She asked me if I would sing to her. After 14 years of this same song, you'd think that an Asst Stage Manager, who takes her job very seriously, would be eager to let go of our little bedtime ritual. But she's not. She crawled into bed, and I sang "You Are My Sunshine" to her like I do every night. She smiled and cooed like she was four and rolled over with the comforter pulled up to her chin. "Why do you still like me to sing to you?"
"Because I'm British."
