I was duly informed by HRH this past Friday when I went to pick her up from her babysitters that this Monday (tomorrow) is the official sign up for her grade school’s Talent Show in another week’s time. Now, being completely new this to this whole ‘child’ thing, what would constitute itself as a ‘talent’ at the ripe ‘ol age of seven-years-old is well beyond me. After all, eating, pooping, asking questions and negotiating bedtime hardly epitomize themselves as ‘talents’ to my mind.
However, wanting to sound supportive, I asked her flat out: “what talents do you have, kiddo?”
“Skating, swimming, skipping, and playing on the monkey bars” was her immediate response. Really?
Okay, so, yeah, the judges on ‘America’s Got Talent’ are going to eat her alive. Even worse, I’m inevitably going to have to sit through an entire evening of these types of “talents” come show time next week and, let’s just say that a whole evening of watching adolescents skip, hula-hoop and play ‘Three Blind Mice’ on the violin isn’t my idea of a rocking evening out. In fact, I’d rather drive railroad spikes into my forehead with a rubber mallet.
God help me.
But how are we even going to facilitate these skills of hers into something resembling a performance worthy of a Talent Show? It’s, like, a 100 degrees out lately so skating is definitely out. Likewise, the school is not likely going to install a special indoor pool on the stage (nor would they appreciate me bringing in a Mr. Turtle pool) or set up some monkey bars for her to climb around on are they?
Maybe we could breathe some life into that skipping idea though like, perhaps, having her solve basic math equations, or correctly spell out complicated words while she skips. Now, THAT would be talent!
