Editing the Narrative

Word is a lot of folks doctor up their pictures to present a more perfect narrative of their lives for the world to see on social media.

Perfect seats. Center. No big heads in front of us.

I thought about that last night.

I wanted to post these pictures to Facebook of our family outing to see The Nutcracker.

For years I've been wanting to take the kids to see this show. Every year I say, "Maybe next year they'll be old enough to enjoy it." Well, we've gone to several movies, plays, and family POPS performances, and the children have been able to sit through each and have even enjoyed them. And Kate is in dance class! So, this was our year.

The lights dim, the curtains begin to rise, all of Music Hall is quiet. The only sound to be heard is....that of an entire box of skittles hitting the floor. Sounded like a million marbles on the run.

And I could smile because it wasn't my kids who were responsible. It was that poor lady a couple of rows back. I feel your pain, Mama.

Nope, my precious children sat there like good little angels. I was thrilled and very much looking forward to seeing their faces light up for the Rat King.

We were about 10 minutes in when Julian asked, "When's this going to be over?" And a few minutes later, Kate declared herself to be "bored" and asked, "why isn't there any talking in this movie." And then a minute after that, Jonas was laying across the seats looking miserable. They get their lack of appreciation for the theater from their Dad by the way.

Not even a chuckle for the Rat King!!!

The only time they were happy during the show.

Act 1 ended and the lights came on for intermission. For the first time since the show started, I saw joy on their faces. Jonas jumped up and yelled, "Yay! It's finally over!"

And then my family left me. Doug, Kate, Jonas, and Julian. They filed out of there, and I watched Act 2 all by my lonesome (which was lovely).

So you see, I couldn't post the pictures last night because you needed to hear the whole story.


And to the old broad sitting behind us, you're welcome for the insight on what it's like to take twin 7-year old boys to the ballet. You were right not to bring your grandsons.