Big E: Future Pageant Dad?
Friday afternoon we gathered for Little E's end of the school year program.
His class performed many songs, including one of my favorites, Here Comes The Sun.
Big E was tasked with watching. Not performing. Not participating. Just good old fashioned watching.
This blew his mind. This was the first time Little E was doing something without his big brother and it was a tough pill for Big E to swallow.
Going into the performance, I would say Little E knew about 55% of the words to the five songs they were performing. But hey, he's not yet four, so I think that's great!
He was smiling and excited to be performing with his class. I thought Little E did a phenomenal job. As his mother, I know I am obliged to say that, but I also felt that deep in my soul. Especially as he shouted out amazing little nuggets in the midst of song such as:
MOM, THIS IS TOO HARD FOR ME!
To Big E, this was not acceptable.
Mid performance, Big E walked up to the stage, not once, not twice, but three dang times to warn Little E that he better up his game.
I WANT TO HEAR YOU SING!
SING, LITTLE E, SING!
I was mortified. Mr. Yoy was at work, so I was left to shoulder my embarrassment alone.
I death whispered to Big E to sit down STAT. He was already blocking the twenty seven cameras videoing the performance. I didn't want some dark, big-foot character skulking across the shot as well.
But Big E was frustrated.
I JUST WANT HIM TO DO A GOOD JOB, MOM!
I told him I understood, but he could not interrupt the performance again, or we would have to leave.
I then mentally scratched Surgeon General of the United States off of his potential future occupation list and wrote down Pageant Dad. And he'd be a damn good one.
His class performed many songs, including one of my favorites, Here Comes The Sun.
Big E was tasked with watching. Not performing. Not participating. Just good old fashioned watching.
This blew his mind. This was the first time Little E was doing something without his big brother and it was a tough pill for Big E to swallow.
Going into the performance, I would say Little E knew about 55% of the words to the five songs they were performing. But hey, he's not yet four, so I think that's great!
He was smiling and excited to be performing with his class. I thought Little E did a phenomenal job. As his mother, I know I am obliged to say that, but I also felt that deep in my soul. Especially as he shouted out amazing little nuggets in the midst of song such as:
MOM, THIS IS TOO HARD FOR ME!
To Big E, this was not acceptable.
Mid performance, Big E walked up to the stage, not once, not twice, but three dang times to warn Little E that he better up his game.
I WANT TO HEAR YOU SING!
SING, LITTLE E, SING!
I was mortified. Mr. Yoy was at work, so I was left to shoulder my embarrassment alone.
I death whispered to Big E to sit down STAT. He was already blocking the twenty seven cameras videoing the performance. I didn't want some dark, big-foot character skulking across the shot as well.
But Big E was frustrated.
I JUST WANT HIM TO DO A GOOD JOB, MOM!
I told him I understood, but he could not interrupt the performance again, or we would have to leave.
I then mentally scratched Surgeon General of the United States off of his potential future occupation list and wrote down Pageant Dad. And he'd be a damn good one.
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