The Fear . . .

About a month ago RedDog brought home an index cards with two lines of type on it.  He handed it to me and told me he had to learn it for school.  He did not get more specific than that.  I looked it over once and put the card on the counter where it promptly got lost in a pile of paperwork, not to be found again until last week.

When I uncovered it, I ask RedDog what it was for.  He shrugged his shoulders and claimed he didn't know.  I asked him to read over it a few times and find out from his teacher the next day when he needed to know it by and what it was for.  He told me he would.

The  next day a note came home in the backpack explaining that the First Grade was having a singing concert in one week.  I read the note aloud.  "The children were sent home with their singing parts over a month ago and should know them by now and feel comfortable singing the lines in front of the entire school."  Uhh . . .

At this point, RedDog is on the couch, quietly sobbing into a pillow.  I asked him what was up.  His little body just shook while tears slipped out of his closed eyes one at a time.  "Do you know your lines?" I asked?  He shook his head no.  "Do you want me to help you learn them?" I asked.  He shook his head no. "Can you tell me why you're so upset?" I asked.  He shook his head no.

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me RedDog," I said as I started to walk away.  Then he blurted out, "I'M TOO SCARED TO SING IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!  I DON'T WANT TO DO IT MOM!"

And I totally understand my boy, because I've suffered from the same problem ever since an unfortunate event in Sixth Grade.  That's a story for another day.  I'd love to say that I encouraged him to face his fears and sing in the show.  But I did not.  Instead, I let his teacher know that he had a bad case of the nerves and might do better singing in one of the ensemble pieces. It was clearly too much pressure for my sweet son.  She graciously gave RedDog's part to a little boy named Jeffrey who was so thrilled he learned the lines on the spot and has been belting them out ever since.

We're not all solo performers.  Hannie B.? Yes, any given day and twice on Sundays she would get up, sing the lines and shine like a star.  Big C - I even think he would do it, although sheepishly.  Me?  Never.  The Hubby?  Yes, he would sing if driven by a sense of duty.  But the little Dogger, well, it looks like he's got some of his momma in him.