About Heather Camlot
A freelance writer, crafts junkie and mom of two, Heather Camlot is constantly on the lookout for that elusive work-life balance she hears so much about. Read about Heather's never ending search for five minutes to herself while trying to meet deadlines, make the school bus and raise two fantastic children.
“The play is going to start soon! Are you ready?” Alexandre yells to Marc and me from his bedroom.
Are we ready?
Every few days for the past two months, our presence has been requested by the kids in Alexandre’s bedroom for a grand show. We’re not sure where they got the idea of putting on a play, but it’s definitely ingrained in their minds. We are told to sit on the floor, to not utter a word lest we want to miss the end, and to take pictures or movies.
The play opens with a song, either accompanied by their mini guitars or performed a cappella. One time we were all asked to play an instrument. We abided, though among the four of us, no one has any real musical talent (sorry Mom, I know you tried).
The second act is the educational part of the show. Both kids received these massive DK sticker books from their aunt and uncle for Christmas, one about farm animals, the other about transportation, which, for the purpose of the show, are propped on the drawers of Alexandre’s dresser. Then each child stands next to his or her book and explains what we see on the page. Marc once attempted to read the corresponding text. He was given a stern talking to about interrupting.
The third act tends to vary. A few times we watched a puppet show, another time we had solo musical performances and last night, we were offered a play about a lion and a monkey – as portrayed by the kids dressed in their Halloween costumes. This act tends to fizzle a bit as the kids either fall into a fit of giggles or descend into a bout of fighting that ends with someone stomping out of the room.
Finally, the show wraps with another musical number. We clap and whistle and the kids take a bow. The plays are certainly an entertaining way to cap off our evenings. If only we could just get the niggling feeling out of our minds that they are simply ploys to delay bedtime. Nah... they’re all in the name of art, right?
