The build up to the Christmas program began this fall. The
Shover preschool Christmas program is a big deal, a real big deal. It is not any different than any preschool program I suppose, although I've never seen any other. The standard fare. More cute than your eyes can absorb singing
corny Christmas songs out of tune while vaguely
gesturing with their hands. But this year was going to be different. This was the year that we were going to be the parents who, potentially, were going to have the "
crier". See, there is a
crier every year at the program. The kid who looses it over the thought of being on stage facing overeager parents with
video cameras. This year Dane would perform in his first program and my money was on him being the
crier.
In the weeks before today Dane would change his mind. One day he was going to star in this little B movie, the next day he had convinced himself that he would rather do anything,
anything other than stand on that plywood platform covered in 1970's carpet.
This morning as I dropped him off at daycare he was staunchly in the "anything,
anything other" category. He dressed in his Daddy Shirt & Tie, which I am guessing he figured would look just as cool in the folding chairs watching his classmates as it would participating in the program. He looked the part.
We arrived at the program. Dane was whisked away by his (awesome) teacher and reemerged on the stage a card carrying member of the big boy club. His little eyes searched around the room looking for his Dad. He locked eyes, smiled and....stayed on the stage. No tears, no wailing, no bolting for the door. He stayed on the stage for the entire program. He refused to sing, but that is a minor detail, so is the fact that he spontaneously
untucked his shirt and was attempting to unbutton it when I gave him my coldest
iciest stare to stop him. I was proud of him for doing something out of his element. I was unconcerned that he chose not to sing. I will no longer worry about him being the
crier at future events, but I will worry about him being "that kid". That kid who takes his clothes off on stage.
I love my little man.