My daughter has joined the local youth theater’s production of Annie. As a seven year old, one of the youngest in the cast, her role is to stand in the back and look cute. This is good. A good intro to theater.
While I was gone, my husband got to attend the parent meeting. We learned that there is no sliding scale of parental volunteer requirements based on the number of lines in the play, so the parent of the silent kid picking his nose in the back has to do just as much as the parent of the lead. Which is fine, but hoo boy, I’m bad enough juggling commitments as it is. As the mother of a cast member, my job is to paint sets, sew costumes, take pictures, sell tickets, attend rehearsals, and man concessions, and probably a few more things I forgot.
So now I’m trying to be sneaky and figure out alternate ways to get in my mandatory 20 volunteer hours. I’ve already volunteered my husband to do candid photography from rehearsals. Why not. He just treated himself to a new camera. I’m thinking of offering to help out with their social media, because let’s face it, given the choice between that and sewing, I think we all would be happier for it.
My friend, who is quite involved in this theater, asked me if I knew any dogs that might be available to play Sandy. I was impressed with their dedication to bring a real dog into the mix, because shoot, those FurReal dogs would be a heck of a lot easier to deal with, would not pee on Ms. Hannigan, run into the audience, or pull Annie’s wig off her head mid-song like a bad reunion episode of Real Housewives of East County.
I noticed she did not ask if my dog would be available, but that is because she’s met my dog. I don’t know of any highly trained scruffy terrier mixes at the moment, but when they find one, I am pleased to offer my volunteer services as Official Show Vet. They need one of those, surely.