The Mama Grizzly protective instinct is a biological
imperative. Survival of the species and
whatnot. As a mom and as someone who has even a basic comprehension of science,
it is something that I understand pretty well.
What I cannot fathom, from any sort of scientific standpoint,
is the similarly amplified feeling of gratitude when someone shows kindness to
my child. If you are nice to me, odds
are you’ll get a toe in the dirt “aw shucks” kind of response. But if you do
something nice for my son? I can go from dry-eyed to misty in about the same
time it takes Henry to brandish those adorable dimples.
This past Sunday, I took my son to the theatre to see part
of a musical. I say “part” because while
it is a jukebox musical with music that he loves, there are also a lot of book
scenes. Henry is bright and can be
attentive, but he is also highly inquisitive, and I didn’t relish the thought
of two hours of “what is he doing,” “why is that funny,” and “when are they
going to sing again?” So I arranged to bring
him to the concert finale of Act 1.
Twenty minutes of music that he knows, then we are out the door.
He had a blast! Guitar solos, stand-up bass tricks and
driving drumbeats had him smiling ear to ear and dancing on my lap. All too soon, the lights came up and it was
intermission. Nearby ushers complimented his dancing and his attention during
the show. When the penny dropped that we were not staying for the second act,
though, my young man was inconsolable.
Now this was partly due to the time of day, but there is something
wonderful about a kid who cries because he can’t stay at the theatre. Maybe my
bias is showing…
Anyway, I got him calmed down and we walked to the car. Per the Parking Man’s instructions, we had
parked obnoxiously close to the stage door. There, standing ever so close to
our car were two members of the band we had just seen onstage. Let me dispel
any notion you may have of this looking cool: we’re talking about two young men
wearing white t-shirts, boxers, and wireless microphone packs who are taking a
smoke break in between acts. Not sexy and not necessarily recognizable. But Henry asks who they are and I tell
him. He goes super quiet, and tugs on my
hand.
“Do you want to say hi?” I ask. He nods. (Talking to
strangers is not my strong suit either, but we do things for our kids…)
I apologise for the intrusion and introduce us. I tell them
that Henry has wanted to see the show for a month, and that we had seen the big
concert and Henry loved it. They both
seem touched. The drummer smiles, comes around the car and offers Henry a big
high five. Henry’s hand meets his with a shy smile. The bass player quickly puts out his
cigarette and follows suit. Both of the musicians give Henry huge smiles and thank
him for coming before disappearing back into the theatre.
While Henry beamed in the backseat on the way home, I felt
my eyes get misty. I had taken my son to a show at the theatre that gave me my
Equity card, and the unsuspecting cast had treated him like gold. Sniff.
At the end of the day, Henry and I talked about everything
we did: we rode on a trolley, had lunch
at the beach, saw the show. When I asked him what his favorite part was, he
replied without hesitation,
“Getting high fives from The Crickets.”
Sniffle… Someone pass me a kleenex…
You're adorable
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