Thursday, 18 April 2024
Midweek evenings are usually a blur — homework, dinner, bath time, and somehow convincing everyone to wind down before bed. But this Wednesday was different. Emily had been rehearsing for weeks for her school’s end-of-year musical, and the big night had finally arrived.
Sarah and I managed to wrap things up early at work, fed the younger two, and left them with Sarah’s sister for the evening. It felt strange leaving the house on a school night without the usual chaos, but in a good way. The school auditorium was already buzzing with parents, teachers, and students by the time we arrived — that familiar mix of pride and nervous energy in the air.
Emily had been tight-lipped about her role — all we knew was that she had a few lines and was part of a song or two. We found seats near the middle and settled in as the lights dimmed. The musical was a quirky original piece about a time-traveling library, of all things. Somehow, it worked. The kids were full of energy, clearly having the time of their lives.
And then there was Emily — confident, clear, and right in her element. She wasn’t just reciting lines; she was acting. Projecting. Singing. It took us both by surprise. Sarah squeezed my hand at one point, and I realized I’d been smiling for most of the show. It’s funny how your kids can still surprise you, even when you think you know them inside out.
Afterward, the crowd spilled out into the school courtyard, where there were cupcakes, juice boxes, and proud hugs all around. Emily spotted us, grinning from ear to ear, and bounded over. “Did you see the second song?” she asked. “That was the hard one!”
We told her she was amazing, of course. Because she was.
By the time we got home, it was late — far past bedtime — but no one was too worried about it. Nights like these don’t happen often, but when they do, they leave something behind. Not just memories, but a little extra pride that lingers for days.
Emily went to bed with her program booklet on the nightstand. I think we’ll hang onto that one.