Thursday, April 28, 2011

Wednesday Night Lights, Final Weeks

Last night I rushed home to get Stitch from lessons. (For all my Rink Friends: No, my Babysitter is not a Domestic Violence victim. Her husband is serving overseas, but her friend's car has no airbags and they had an accident. She's dinged up, but fine.)

I ran smack into Ms V, Other Mom and Coach talking at the Ice Door. I really had no interest in talking with the other moms, but Coach thanked me for running copies of the Practice Sheets for her other students. I said no problem and just let me know when it needs to be altered. I then relieved The Babysitter, offered her some parting Tylenol and sent her on her way. I stepped out into the lobby to talk with Rink Pal about what he wants to wear for Spring Show and everything went downhill from there.

Stitch came out for a quick hug and pants fixing (I hate that elastic for feet, never using it again) and back out he went. Rink Pal and I looked at drawings and made some decisions, and then we started talking. And talking. And talking. My beads languished in my bag, unfinished thread and all. (I'd say it's 65% done right now.) But we talked, slowly moving closer to the glass as I tried to see what was going on with the kids. I explained about by ban from watching, Rink Pal laughed at me and I stood on the benches to get a better view. Ballet jumps. Edges. Spins. The usual.

Eventually I creeped over and peered over the edge, while Ms V said that she hopes Gordon is "never like that, never wants me to watch him or hug him." Lady, your day is coming. Stitch caught me watching but did not give the Dismissal Hand Signal. I still didn't get to see much, as pretty soon all of us Parents were doing Parental Pantomime, mimicking and trying to figure the kid's moves.

If you've never caught a Parental Pantomime Act, you're missing out. All of us, with the exception of Other Girl's Mom, were doing spirals, hops, ballet moves, you name it. If we'd just had some French Mime outfits we could have sold tickets.

As a Parent, I tend to not realize I'm being ridiculous until it's too late. I'll start leaning from left to right, deeply, while Stitch is doing edges, like I'm using The Force to improve the element. Silly, isn't it? And yet you can't help yourself.

Stitch came off the ice, I made a quick appointment to talk to Coach about July, and we were done. Stitch and Gordon loitered at the Vending Machines, but unfortunately Stitch had spent just about all his allowance and a small Field Trip Bonus at the Nature Museum Trip the day prior. (Hard lessons about money. Sorry, kiddo!)

We came home and turned on Internets World Championships, Men's Short. We did our usual jabs at the costuming and such, but it hit me that Stitch is doing some of the same things these guys do. Stumbly first time tries, but it's the same concepts. Those Half Flips have the same basic concept as a Triple Flip, right? Just a few more times around?


Rink Pal told me that he felt sorry for me, volunteering for costume room duty the weekend before Ice Show. "Why?" I asked.
"Because the costumes never arrive on time!"
"Then it seems I picked one of the better gigs then, right? Nothing to do if the costumes aren't here."

See, this is how I see the breakdown of Figure Skating.

You can't negate that 25% Show Business. The Costumes will never be on time.

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