When I was growing up, my sisters and I were in tons of church plays. We did a summer play and a Christmas play every year. I actually loved it, and when I got to sing a solo, lookout. I was a total rockstar. I loved all the attention on me. I don’t think that has changed, though.
One year, my sister and I were the narrators of the entire Noah’s Ark play. We sat on high stools at the front of the stage, and my head was probably a touch bigger than the ark. The only downfall was that I got a new permanent retainer the week before the play, and I talked with a lisp. I was so embarrassed when I watched the video. Thanks alot, teeth, for ruining my possible news anchor career.
One summer play, I was singing with another girl about senses. (I know, who wrote these plays?) She had a stuffed animal, and I was supposed to have a lollipop. Only I left it sitting in my seat. Whoops. I felt up her stuffed whatever the whole song, so no one thought I was loser that forgot her prop.
I just know I would be laying there, totally forgetting the pain, going through the checklist of what I shaved that morning, while trying to strategically place my hands without anyone thinking anything of it. Then off we will go to the hospital, while I wonder, “Does this stretcher make my butt look big?”