1m2aSandbox

Yesterday was Maddie’s turn at the talent show, and she seemed much more relaxed and ready for it than Cora had been the previous day; after all, Maddie is a two-year veteran by now, and was performing with her friend that she’s done the talent show with since kindergarten.

So I was not expecting it when I received a call from a friend of mine within the school, hissing, “I’m not sure what’s going to happen here! The girls are fighting. I repeat the girls are fighting.”

I still don’t know what went down, but I understand Maddie sat rigid with fury while her gal-pal and partner-in-talent dripped miserably over the lunch table. For quite a while. When it was pointed out that perhaps their feud was due at least partly to nerves, the messenger was promptly shot, uniting the two girls at least momentarily.

Which means that when 2:05 rolled around, I wasn’t sure who would be singing what or if at all. So you can imagine my relief when the girls walked into the gym smiling and seemingly carefree.

I sat in the stands waiting for their turn – at the very end – trying hard to remember the steps to take if you have a heart attack. I’ve sung in front of thousands of people, for actual heads of state, and I can tell you right now that I was much less nervous then than I was yesterday waiting for my daughter to sing.

The whole thing went off without a hitch, and the girls were given admiring compliments and heartfelt praise from classmates afterwards as they basked in the adrenaline rush and gazed at each other fondly.

So we survived the talent show. Barely. Not sure I’m up to one next year.

Oh, and did I mention that our side garden is now down to only two caterpillars? The entire family takes turns bringing out fresh store-bought cut dill for them, replacing what’s wilted during the day.

Seriously, caterpillars. I really need you to live. Really.