I have to take a moment to write about my middle daughter, Gabriella. Based solely on each of their personalities now, I have predictions about what each of them will be when they grow up. Gabriella, as far I can prognosticate, will be the entertainer of the family. Thus, it was no surprise to me when she announced that she would audition for her school musical play. Moreover, she was aiming for a solo. I told her to do her best, study for the part, and that I would be rooting for her to win.
Of course, I, being the pragmatist I am, prepared myself for the role of consoler. I knew there would be many children vying for the same part. Add to that the fact that she had never performed on stage before, and I thought there was a good chance that my Little Angel would learn a lesson in disappointment.
Last Thursday was audition time. My mother, God bless her for her help, went to the school that day to pick her up. “It was pure chaos,” she told me. “There had to have been a hundred children trying out for this play!” “Wow,” I thought, “even if she’s exaggerating, there had to be dozens of kids there.” My heart sank a little for my daughter. Competition was fierce.
Days passed, and Gabriella kept saying, “I can’t believe I have to wait until Tuesday to hear if I got the part! WHY ISN’T TUESDAY HERE YET?!?” Handling anticipation with patience is not one of her strong points. “Don’t worry, Shorty, it’ll be here before you know it. OK,” I said to her. Again… and again… and again…
So, yesterday, Tuesday rolls around. Much to my surprise, no play news was forthcoming. My wife had Gabriella and Nicoletta, my youngest daughter, when I picked up Alessandra from my parents’ house. I got called into work before they came home, so even if she heard anything, I wasn’t there to receive the news. My wife didn’t say anything when I came home again, so I shrugged it off and went to bed.
The next day after work, I was the first one to get home. While I was outside with Cooper, our dog, my wife came home with the kids. When he finished his business, I brought Cooper into the garage. My wife met me there. “Daddy,” she said, “Gabriella has something to tell you.” (Yes, we’re one of those couples who call each other Daddy and Mommy when our kids are around.) Gabriella came out, head drooping down. “Um, Daddy,” she moped, “I heard about the play.” “Oh, yeah? What did you hear,” I asked. Her pout turned into hiding smile, then a wide-mouthed, toothy grin, “I got – I made – I… I got the part!” She just about burst with the joy. “You got the part? You got the part! That’s great, Angel,” I blurted proudly. “Well,” she said, “it’s not a solo. It’s a trio, though. There’s two of them, but I’m in one!” “AWESOME,” I shouted as I picked her up in a big hug. She laughed and squealed joyfully.
So, out of dozens of candidates, my Little Angel, Gabriella, was one of six selected for the part.
I am so, so, terribly proud of her.