Directing a play about a struggling circus, evil villains and clowns is no small "feat"

Like most things in my life, I'm not sure how I found myself in this situation. "We," Erin suddenly popped in (Whoa! Where did she come from?), "How we found ourselves in this situation. 

Last year, we fancied ourselves the self-described saviors of the elementary/middle school play. Without us, we narcissistically imagined that the show would not have gone on. It was for the children, we heroically stated, sacrificing our time, sanity, and not-yet-damaged-beyond-complete-repair reputations for our noble endeavor. 

And, somehow, we didn't screw it up too badly (Thanks to the Lord, a determined team of experts of prop personnel, sound, lighting & tech geniuses, and ridiculously talented kids). 

But this year? 

Surely, someone who actually knew what they were doing would step into the coveted directorial role for the elementary/middle school gig. I mean...who wouldn't want THAT job?

"Why are we doing this again?" I asked as Erin taught over thirty somewhat clumsy kids to step-ball-change in unison while I wrestled with enunciation problems with tricky phrases such as "Pickle's Perambulating Palace of Performers" (Erin and I finally armed ourselves with umbrellas to protect ourselves from the resulting sleet). Due to our having to repeatedly define the term entrepreneur each time it appeared in the script, we finally revised a scene to also teach it to the audience. 

Plagued with problems, the production still valiantly moved forward. Erin and I book-ended practices with week-long illnesses...but at least we were coordinated. Erin disappeared near the beginning...me, closer to the end. An unforeseen generator problem took out the school's power...cancelling key practices introducing props and mics which pushed our Opening Night back a week. 

We again Amy & Erin-ed up the script hoping no one would notice a questionable number of twins in the play so we could accommodate more actors. We delighted in the appearance of a side-line comedy duo that was meant to resemble the two grumpy guys, Statler and Waldorf from The Muppets, and immediately added a ton more puns for them. We replaced one musical number with the song, Smelly Cat from Friends and had administrators  (and a dog!) sporting kitty ears wheeled out on stage to pop out of trash cans to surprise the audience. Our friend, Tyler, agreed to don a cockroach costume and join the on-stage flea circus, infuriatingly stealing the show. Erin and I used squirt guns to mist the audience during the clown's performance, donned plastic retainers during the on-stage performance of "Artificial Teeth," and dramatically ducked when the Strong Man lifted a lion and effortlessly tossed it over our chairs. We giggled maniacally over our "high-tech" production as we gleefully used laser pens to emulate escaping bees during one scene.

"Why are we doing this again?" I whispered as Erin and I nervously clutched our mics, moments before stepping in front of our full house of proud parents who were eager to see the product of months of hard work (and endless chauffeuring). These were people who have been listening with, I imagine, grave concern to reports of mine and Erin's directorial methods which are largely based on one of us bellowing, "You CAN be replaced, ya know!"

We sat in our director's chairs...literally on the edge of our seats as the curtains parted, the lights illuminated the stage and the music cue-ed our actors to take the stage. Our hearts raced...our spirits soared...as our actors hit their marks, enunciated, flourished, smiled, snarled, sneered, swooned and otherwise encapsulated their characters. No one clapped louder or longer than Erin and me. 

Why did we do this?

The easy answer, this year, was that Erin made me ("Last year was ALL you, babe," Erin pointed out. Huh. There you are. I wondered where you had gone.).

But that's not all true.

Amy pauses, glaces surreptitiously around her to make sure she's alone. 

I do it because I love hanging out with my friend (Please don't tell her...I'll never hear the end of it). We got ourselves into this initially with NO CLUE what we were doing and discovered that, with the right combination of kids, it was mostly fun. This year, we had a better handle on things (organization, time-line, communication) which made things not-so-scary. Erin and I combine our unique talents to create a partnership based on trust, teasing, support, inappropriate inside jokes and, ugh, love. We sink or soar together.

We do it because theater kids are the most enthusiastic, creative, risk-taking, uninhibited, inclusive group of people I have ever met. They inspire me with their ideas, their bravery, and their collaborative spirit. They take words written on paper and bring them to life. Incredible. 

But still...thank goodness that this was my last year.