A small price toupee (being in the Christmas play)

We just had to make it through THIS day. After a full month of frivolity and fuss; being shoved unceremoniously into insufferable sweaters, sporting Santa hats, elf ears, and antlers on our heads, singing (Oh dear Lord...the SINGING), and slinging glitter around for an infinite number of cute crafts...it was all down to This. One. Day. 

No one ever believes me when I whimper, whisper, or wail that "I didn't sign up for this." I am more than happy to sit on the sidelines and cheer (sarcastically, of course). But when my name is entered, against my will, into the Goblet of Fire, I will ingest some Gillyweed, flex my fins and go for the gold like some sassy, souped-up guppy. 

I was not prepared, however, to have to participate in all three events comprising the Tri-Wizard Competition. When my principal signed herself and the 4th grade team up to perform "Blue Christmas" as the singing Elf-is(es), I begrudgingly said, "Okay." When my music teacher reminded me about bell choir practice, I showed up to inform him that a terrible mistake had been made and was unceremoniously handed a bell. Fine. When the "Jingle Bell" choir arrived after that, sweeping me up into their show, I followed the rules of a rip tide and rode out the current.

"THREE shows?" my friend, Katriel said, incredulously, "How did you manage to go from zero to three in one day?" She discovered how quickly that could happen when she arrived during my next bell choir practice to extricate me and instead got sucked into my whirlpool of madness. She stopped laughing all the way when the Jingle Bell choir snapped her up for their show as well. 

How hard could it be, anyway? I watched from the wings, all shook up, while two Elvis(es) had to handle a dramatic Christmas crisis in the back of the auditorium. Well, it's now or never. With my wig held high, I stormed the stage with my sneer firmly in place. My fellow Elf-is(es) didn't let me down. We warbled our way to the end and then sauntered, off-stage-left, before Katriel and I took off at a sprint, rounding the back of the curtain, whipping off our wigs, and clutching our clappers to re-enter from stage-right with our bell choir group. A brief argument preceded our appearance as we debated our order. "Are you high?" one ding-a-ling asked me, to which, unsurprisingly, I answered, "I wish I was."

I can't keep time. I don't read music. I have no rhythm. I've had a microphone turned off on me, mid-song, and I've notoriously been kicked out of two bands. All I had going for me was showmanship. I channeled my best SNL Will Ferrell performing "Blue Oyster Cult" and cowbell-ed the hell out of my choir bell. Exit stage-left. Race across the back of the stage, bells flying everywhere, as another argument ensued about arrangement. A semi-circle compromise was made and we entered, stage-right, to immediately form a straight line. Ahhh...theater. I awaited a premeditated pratfall from an orchestrated booty bump that never arrived as our star, Tess, courageously flailed about with concocted choreography. Like all good school teachers, Tess had been the recipient of many thoughtful holiday presents from her children in the form of the three Cs: Candles, coffee cups, and contagion. Let's just say she had some pretty sick moves. As we exited the stage AGAIN, we congratulated her. "I gave it my best shot," she gasped. 

It was over. 

Except for the pictures.

Oh dear Lord...the pictures.

My 4th grade photographer was over-zealous in her picture-taking duties; her astute, David Attenborough-style narration of the videos rendering them not suitable for sharing. 

NOT:  "Graceful as a gazelle, Mrs. Mosiman glided across the stage, her audience enraptured by her harmonious holiday serenade."

MORE LIKE:  "So much for feather feet." and "I've heard her sing worse."

One candid shot summed up the experience as my cherub captured me glowering at my squirming students as they bounced merrily upon their tax-payer-funded auditorium seats. 

The emcees of the show, Erin and Tyler, portraying glib Elf-on-the-Shelf characters, stood in the wings and giggled maniacally at me as I shimmied my hips, shook my bell, and jingled my jangle, knowing the entire time that I was intent on decking something much more satisfying than the halls. As I nervously awaited my cue to ring that stupid bell...never actually sure what the cue actually WAS...I noticed Tyler pointing his camera steadily at me. I took the time to discreetly point back at him. 

My friend Val graciously volunteered to chronicle our experience with an end-of-day group picture. I had intended for us to be gathered wistfully in a most charming fashion around a Christmas tree but when I attempted to wrestle my friend Marissa's table-top tree (The rest of us had dumped our decorations before the last bus had left the loop) into submission, the base fell off and refused to further cooperate so I decided, Have tree, will travel, and dragged it down to the office for the picture. We held it in front of us like hunters holding up a trophy kill. I couldn't take ONE more minute. It was official:  I wigged out. 

Winter vacation has officially begun, folks. School is a wrap for 2022.

2023 will be the best yet ("Serius"ly. I'm not trying to be riddikulus.).