Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Why I do Things

So, last weekend I found myself sitting behind a bake sale table.

And Nick, who was standing right next to me, was all winey, asking me at least half a dozen times if he could have a third brownie, and finally turning to me and in that nasally complainy voice said "why are we even HERE?"

I haven't done anything like a bake sale since High School, which was the last time I'd done anything related to a bake sale at all. I think it was for the international club? But here I was, in the hall outside the gym at the Middle School, while various kids of all ages popped in and out changing costumes and talking about points.

See, back in the fall, Nick came home from school saying he wanted to do something called "D.I."
"What is it?" I asked.
"You build stuff," Nick said. "I know some friends that do it."

I asked a parent who coached a team the year before. "It's good!" she said. "Sometimes they have to build things, sometimes they do a play or a performance. You'll see, it's fun!"

In order to join a team, the boys had to do a challenge. (Nate had quickly decided he wanted to do this, too.) They chose to build things out of paper. I was not allowed to help them at all. I helped Nate anyway. Then I showed up at the try out and brought the paper products.

There are one other parent there. She also had two kids who wanted to do DI. At the end of the little meeting, the teacher turned to us and said they were looking for a couple of people to coach.

I tried explaining I was the worst person in the world for this job. I tried explaining that I had a hard time not writing out Nick's math answers for him, or just rewriting the occasional word he had misspelled. I would never be able to get a group of boys to create anything without sticking my hand in.

No one listened.

So the other mom and I ended up coaching this DI team. Lucky for us, at this level we do not have to compete.

Unluckily for us, they did not give us a choice as to what challenge we'd get.

We were told all teams at this level had to do a play about Roy G. Biv's Birthday Party. You know Roy, right? The colorful rainbow guy? No? Look it up. The topic is rainbow birthday party. The team: Ten boys in first and second grade who think farts are the height of humor.

No one wanted to to a rainbow play.

After weeks and weeks of getting the kids to come up with some ideas, think about colors, etc. the other mom finally got them to settle on an outline for the play. Somehow, the part with the graffiti, the part where Roy G Biv is a bear, and the part where Roy G. Biv was suspended from a bungee cord from the ceiling didn't make it into the play.

The problem was, the boys had no concept of what a stage was - their play took them all over the classroom, out into the hall, etc. They also had no concept of an audience, and would turn their backs to the audience and, as I mentioned before, sometimes wander into the restroom and do parts of the show in there. Finally, they couldn't settle on who talks when. Three boys would commonly be talking at once, one saying his line about liking green grapes, one talking about farting on Roy G Biv's carpet, and one pretending to spray paint all over Mr. Yellow.

Then, finally, came the day of the town performance. Like a dress rehearsal before the actual competition.

I got chewed out because one of the appraisers caught me tying a balloon for the kids and I was supposed to make them do it ALL THEMSELVES. I told her if we'd done that she'd be listening to burps and farts for 8 minutes. (I might have been a little nervous.)

So then the boys began their play.

And it was silence.

Not only were there no fart jokes and no playing around in the background, but the boys didn't even say the lines they'd been practicing. Nothing. There was complete silence as the boys filed in and went through all the actions they were supposed to do. They silently played hide and seek, silently ate food and birthday cake. It was like they'd had a secret meeting and decided to do the whole thing in mime.

Finally the other mom and I broke down and said, from the bleachers in the gym " say something!" And a few of the boys started saying their lines a couple looked like they couldn't remember what they were supposed to say. Nick said something about his food, looking at the picture and saying "I love purple squash!" (it was an eggplant.)

Afterwards I was a bit nervous because it seemed we had so much to do. We watched a couple of other performances and then I wandered out to the bake sale table because we were supposed to have gotten team parents to sign up to staff the tables, and of course we didn't, we were too busy trying to fit in tie-dying the costumes between snow days.

And I sat there behind a table of muffins and rolo bars I made, none of which people were buying, which is when Nick turned to me and asked me his question: Why are we even HERE?

For you, Nick. I'm doing this for you.

1 comment:

Lindax0x0x0x0x said...

Yes, but did he understand? Nope. Not til he has his own kids! Ahh, the cycle of life complete once more! Hee hee hee! Thanks for a good giggle!