Flower Power

This weekend was the ballerinas' performance of The 12 Dancing Princesses. It's a crazy week of running back and forth to rehearsals, spacings, and then the shows themselves. Plus, the Little Ballerina was also in the show. A first (and maybe a last) for her. 

Preparations for the shows always stress me out. Washing leotards. Checking tights for runs or stains. Applying makeup to moving targets. Sculpting hair into sleek works of art. Add in Easter baskets, coloring eggs, and egg hunts, and I was definitely pushed to the brink.

The worst is getting ready for the one performance we actually attend. Because now I not only have to get the ballerinas ready, but myself as well. BSD knows how crazed I become and he tries desperately to help. 

"What can I do for you?" he asks sympathetically.

"Flowers! We need to get flowers to give to the ballerinas after the performance!" I screech at him.

"Great! I'll go get some," he replies, grateful for a reason to leave the house.

I continue my mass destruction of the ozone layer, shellacking the Little Ballerina's matchstick hair strands against her head with a jumbo can of Aqua Net. Praying it will create the appearance of a proper ballet bun.

BSD returns with the flowers, sees the crazed look on my face, and decides to make himself useful setting up the cool, new canisters I bought for the kitchen counter tops. Smart boy.

"BSD! The Big Ballerina is ready. Take her to the theater. I'll follow with the Little Ballerina in a few minutes," I yell at him as I glue LB's eye closed with her false eyelash for the fourth time.

Finally, I hustle LB into the car and run back into the kitchen to grab her a drink. 

And then I glance over at the canisters.

"OH, DEAR LORD! I'M MARRIED TO A MORON!" I scream to the heavens. I am officially pushed over the edge. 

Thinking about this on the drive to the theater, it hits me. The flowers! Did either of us remember to bring the flowers?!?!!?

OF. COURSE. NOT. 

And that is how we wound up here, until seconds before curtain.

And how the flours wound up here, until hours after the curtain.

 Big Ballerina as a 'Golden Flour'

Little Ballerina as a 'Buzzing Bee' (far left with the follicely-challenged bun)