O! Pinata, you are all full of delicious candy

Since D. couldn't make it to Peanut's holiday music program this morning, I thought I'd type up a nice little synopsis for him:

9:14 a.m. - The Baby and I sit down in the back row next to a very friendly dad (not pervie friendly, just regular friendly). He tries to strike up a conversation, but the only thing I can think of to say is, "You smell like pickles." Because he does. Not even good dill pickles. Nasty bread and butter pickles.

9:15 a.m. - Kindergarten classes start to enter the room. Parents stand and wave like crazy idiots to their children. I think, "That is so not cool. I am not doing that."

9:16 a.m. - Peanut walks up on stage and looks all around the room, trying to figure out where I'm sitting. I wait patiently for him to make eye contact. He doesn't see me in the back of the room.

9:16:10 a.m. - I jump out of my chair and furiously flail my free arm in Peanut's direction while whisper-shouting, "Peanut! Peanut! Over here!" Coolness be damned. I need to get credit for attending this thing and it doesn't count if Peanut doesn't see me.

9:20 a.m. - The kids sing, "Up on the Housetop." It's cute.

9:23 a.m. - The music teacher announces the next song will be "O, Chanukah." Peanut cups his hands around his mouth and yells, "Mom, you know this one." I do, because he's been singing it for the last two weeks.

9:26 a.m. - Four students from Peanut's class come forward and give a recitation. They finish and walk back toward the stage. Peanut points to me in the back of the room, narrows his eyes, and in a demonic voice commands, "Clap, Mom!"

9:26:10 a.m. - I clap. Vigorously.

9:27 a.m. - The kids start singing a song about Kwanzaa. It has a good rhythm. One of the girls from Peanuts class digs it. I mean, really, really digs it. She starts dancing. Like an egyptian. It's freakin' hilarious and parents are trying to keep their giggles quiet. Myself included.

9:27:30 a.m. - The first titters from the audience reach the kindergarteners on stage. They realize that someone is doing something funny. Suddenly, they are transformed into a congress of Tourette's sufferers. All manner of tics and twitches erupt. One boy waves his hands over his head, another spins in circles. Peanut slaps himself on top of the head in time to the music. The parents laugh harder. The kids become more outlandish. And so on.

9:29 a.m. - The kids sing a song about pinatas. I'm confused.

9:31 a.m. - I am still confused, but the program is over and I'm glad I went. The whole thing was very entertaining. Plus, Peanut's demon voice scared me and I don't want to cross him.

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