I have two grandchildren, both boys and both big personalities. The oldest one I call Itty Bitty for he is a close replica of his father, my son. The little one I call Boss Baby. You can make your own conclusions about that moniker.
I write today about Itty Bitty and our first theatrical experience. A few years ago, when he was just 3 1/2, the best friend and I thought it a good idea to celebrate the Christmas season by taking him to a play in downtown Portland, which has a great children’s theater. That holiday season they were performing Mary Poppins. A good choice for a three-year old; not too scary and she does get to fly. Tickets were purchased and arrangements were made to have Itty Bitty spend the weekend.
He is just a joy to have over. He always wakes up with a smile on his face, goes to bed easily and his eating habits are simple. Even as a three-year old he was fascinating to talk with, better than some adults I come across. Yes, I know, he’s my first grandchild and I love him to pieces; so, of course, I think he’s the bees knees. His only fault was he didn’t have a quiet voice. Didn’t get the concept of the whisper.
Anyway. . . down to Portland we drove. I love live theater and was so excited to be sharing this with him for the first time. In the three of us went, got situated and then the house lights dimmed and the music began. What you need to understand is the stage play of Mary Poppins is not exactly like the Disney movie Mary Poppins. Oh, the basic story is the same and the music is all there; but in order to flesh out certain scenes they added some new characters. Like a butler, a clumsy butler, a very inept, awkward bumbling butler.
One of the scenes took place in the kitchen with counters and cupboards. During this episode several of the cupboard doors were left open. As the dialog was unfolding, in the background the butler silently went about his duties and proceeded to bang into one of the doors thus knocking himself unconscious. As he dramatically slumped over the counter, laughter ensued. It was at this point Itty Bitty stood up on his seat and said in a loud, clear voice, “Nana, is he dead?” (interesting how he went right to thinking he was dead instead of sleeping.) I quietly whispered, “No, I think he’s just unconscious.”
Again, in a very audible voice he says, “No, I think he’s dead.” I took a second to glance over at the best friend only to find her silently laughing. I answered Itty Bitty back by asking him to lower his voice and whisper. I also said, “No, he’s not dead, just sleeping.”
Seated behind us was a very nice father and his delicate daughter who hadn’t said a word during the whole play. But, in response to Itty Bitty’s resounding denial of my claim, she asked her father, “Is he dead, Daddy?”
Itty Bitty could not leave that one alone. He turned around, still standing on his seat, and said clearly for all to hear, “Nope, Nana says he’s not dead.” The best friend now had tears running down her face.
I grabbed my little commentator by the waist and gently guided him into a sitting position. As he turned to me I whispered, “Shush.” He answered me with a shush of his own, but his included a little attitude and a whole lot of spit. After wiping my face with a tissue, I settled him down and prayed the rest of the play would end quickly.
Mary Poppins flew, the finale was played, applause was gladly given and it was time to exit, stage right.
I will again endeavor to share my love of theater with my grandsons. I will again coach and share theater etiquette. And, surely as I’m writing this, our grand theatrical excursions will go comically wrong. (Can’t wait to see what The Boss Baby comes up with.)
magicalmess 