A Little Child Will Lead Them

Last week felt like two. And I don't think I sat down this weekend. Not that things will get restful for a while yet. My show opens December 17th, and we have tech dress three nights before that. This week we will probably exceed the eleven (!) hours of rehearsal we clocked last week.

It's Hanukkah, which means cooking, and parties, and eating very, very well. I've also managed to do two visits to Jarrah's school--one a Nia class, and the other a Hanukkah presentation. Thanks to my dear friend Robyn's efforts, I had homemade latkes to hand out, and thanks to me, I forgot a menorah, candles, and the gelt and dreidls I bought specially for the occasion. I still think I scored extreme points with the class, judging by how Lord of the Flies things got when I called out "Anyone for a second latke? Or donut?" They began moving forward en masse chanting "More! More! More!" Somehow the teacher had her back turned and I actually got a bit nervous. Eesh. Then I was a total rock star at lunchtime, with every kid trying to squeeze their tray in next to me so they could sit with "Jarrah's mom."

I've had a bunch of auditions lately, but I'm saving those stories for another day. I think most of my creative energies are being funneled towards my current show, not that my creative energies are exactly peaking. But, as someone I know is fond of saying, it is what it is. Gotta find a way to stay focused for a couple more weeks, and hopefully have some fun when I actually get under that spotlight.

I do have a cute Jarrah story to share with you, Readers. Right now at her school, they're doing an annual fundraiser called the Holiday Bazaar. We were asked to send money in an envelope for her to "shop" in the Teachers Lounge for gifts for friends and family. Since we are new to the school, we weren't all that clear on what they'd be shopping for, and how much money was considered appropriate. I heard someone at Daisies murmuring about sending $80. Eighty dollars! Were all the gifts going to be encased in platinum? I told David we should send $40, and he said $30, and that's what we sent. Jarrah came home Monday afternoon with a large, sealed paper bag and no change. She said she'd forgotten to get something for herself, even though we'd signed the note that said she could. Oh well. Speaks to her generous nature.

We waited until tonight to open the bag, because I was at rehearsal last night, and tonight is the last night of Chanukah. After candle-lighting and dinner and some gifts for me (my favorite lotion and a super-duper-deluxe cast-iron soup pot!) Jarrah was eager for us to open the bag. Whoever was working the Bazaar (tomorrow it will be me, since I volunteered for the Thursday shift) had cutely stapled each gift into a snowman bag with a name label. Jarrah gave us the ones marked "Dad" and "Mom." David's contained a squishy key holder that said "Number One Dad."

Mine contained a ballpoint pen that read "Number One Aunt."

"David. Did you see the special message on my pen?" I inquired sweetly, holding it up, and if the energy it took not to laugh myself silly isn't considered acting, I don't know what is.

He was duly impressed. Then I spotted an envelope at the bottom of the bag. It jangled when I picked it up. Oh, I thought. How nice. Change. There was a receipt stapled to the envelope with a list of figures on it, culminating in the sum "$4.25." Wow, I thought. Savvy shopper. That's a lot of change.

Then I opened the envelope. Three quarters fell out. And twenty-five dollars. I held up the wad of bills and looked wordlessly at David.

"Jarrah," he said. "How did you decide how much money to spend on the gifts?"

"I just bought what I wanted," she shrugged.

And there you have it. The lone member of our clan with any money sense. The thrifty soul who managed to stretch seven gifts out of $4.25. This bodes well for saving her allowance, and what she decides to do with the proceeds from her summers serving lemonade at Hotdog on a Stick. Doesn't it?