We had a busy day yesterday. The John Beargrease Sled Dog Marathon started, and we went over to a friend's house to watch the dogs trek through their yard. Word is, it's really too warm to be sledding dogs right now, but the teams that went past us all had that great sled-dog grin on their faces. Maia was immensely impressed with the concept of sled dogs, while John was a little more interested in the sloppy joes and hot apple cider on tap.
After that, we went to Maia's stage debut. Her preschool was presenting their spring program. Maia was a bee in the relatively unknown "Springtime" segment, which is sure to become an instant classic.
Problem is, they hadn't practiced in their costumes, and when the curtain opened, there was Maia with her own wardrobe malfunction.
She was fascinated by her antennae, an elastic band with pipe cleaners stapled on. She was fiddling with the antennae before curtain, and by the time the show started, she had nearly pulled the band off. She suddenly realized she probably shouldn't be doing this, so she let them go, which made them fall into her face. She grabbed them again, trying to pull the band back on, and failing. Tears seemed imminent, crowding out my secret fear that she might have an accident onstage. But she bit her lip, then sang with the chorus, trying to make sure the show went on.
From offstage came two hands belonging to the indomitable Ms. Patti, which then grasped the band and pulled it smartly over Maia's head, jamming her eyebrows over her eyes and making her the frowniest-face bee springtime ever saw. Maia tilted her head back to see under the band, and sang along.
She fiddled with the antennae pretty much throughout the program, but that was as bad as it got, although Ms. Patty surreptitiously pulled them back on a couple more times. The threat of tears receeded, Maia got into the swing of things, and even spotted us in the audience, giving us a wave and a shoutout to her brother at the curtain call: "Hey John!"
Photos TK, I hope. She slept all the way home.