Last night I actually got to watch the show. As a spot op, you can't really "watch." I know it sounds weird, but when you've got your eye trained hard on your mark you don't really "see" what they're doing.
One of my colleagues braved the weather to join me. "It's just like NASCAR, only with toddlers and skates," I said as incentive. We sat in the bleachers, sipping bourbon and cokes, and enjoying the show. She wasn't disappointed; a girl plowed into a pile of loose props and a soloist performing a backwards haircutter spiral nearly nailed a little one doing her little routine.
"When does Stitch come on?"
"He's one of the first bits."
Sure enough, here come the boys. Now, I knew Stitch had been hamming it up. Dad had reported it to me and he had spoken to him. I had spoken to him. Coach had spoken to him. Apparently it's going to take Joe Pesci talking to him, because he is still going all prosciutto out there.
Stitch waved to the audience. He waved to his fellow performers. He did his routine spot on (and sure enough the other boys began to follow him), and on the way out he waved, blew kisses, and when the spotlight stayed on him, he didn't fail his cheering audience. He did a hop and flourish right on the final beat of the music and blackout.
My friend was in hysterics. House left loved it. I didn't know what to think. I mean, as a mom I think it's awesome, but as an entertainment person, I know he needs toning down. For now I'll say, Let him have his Ham.
And of course I have video of the whole thing. So now I have immortalized these days of Richie Rich cutting him off, Shuffles looking lost, and the interminable swizzle which if I see many more of, I will stab my eyes out. Stitch says he hates it when I do this, but I've told him that the Parent Police will ticket me unless I record and photograph his childhood. (He rolls his eyes at this notion.)
Today is the final performance.
Yesterday we ran home between shows to sit for a moment and get some dinner. I'm a big proponent of getting out of the theatre between shows, if only for a little while. It prevents burnout and I had a big crock pot of split pea soup waiting for us.
"How were things in the dressing room?"
"Good," says Stitch.
"You boys looked good out there today."
"Thanks."
"Did you have fun?"
"Yup." *pause* "I think I want to do Ice Show again next year."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"If that's what you want, sure. You can do it next year. You'll probably be with the freestyle boys by then."
"But I want to be a soldier again."
"I think you'll have fun no matter what you do. You really seem to love having an audience."
"Oh yes."
I had made the comment to Coach, "I think we found the 'on' switch," referring to Stitch whenever he's got an audience. May the Buddhas forgive me if I am raising another Bowman the Showman.
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