Rough Stone Rolling

Our ward’s Annual Taquito Dinner & Talent Show last night proved, once again, to be an evening of wows and wonders. We were entertained by a 3 and 5-year old duet singing “A, You are Adorable” as the older sibling kept scratching himself “down there” the entire time; the bishop’s 13-year old daughter did her best angst-dripping Kurt Cobain performing acoustic guitar and singing Nirvana’s “Dumb”:

My heart is broke but I have some glue

Help me inhale and mend it with you

We’ll float around and hang out on clouds

Then we’ll come down and I have a hangover, have a hangover

Have a hangover, have a hangover…

That one stuck in our heads for the rest of the night, I can tell you.

The wife, L, wasn’t able to make it to the extravaganza this year, having had to represent the T. family at a niece’s wedding in Utah. So it was with no small trepidation that she surrendered to my judgment of Miss D.’s dance number and outfit being suitable– and not too scandalous– for the event. This may have turned out to be a mistake. D. decided to do a jazz dance routine, involving a chair, to the tune of Chicago’s “Roxie.” Her outfit included a leotard-tight tuxedo-style top with a little black skort, faux shirt cuffs, a bowler hat and fishnet stockings (no, no stiletto heels), and the number involved strutting around the stage, sitting on the chair and swinging, and crossing, her legs a lot. I never noticed before how long my daughter’s legs have become, and never had I seen her use them to such…um…professional lengths. Also, apparently I hadn’t really listened to the lyrics before she was up there performing in front of the bishop and ward:

I’m gonna be a celebrity

That means somebody everyone knows

They’re gonna recognize my eyes

My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose

I sheepishly glanced around, saw the “boobs” line hadn’t escaped some of the members, and was grateful that the cultural hall was dark. Finally, she ended on the chair, legs crossed high and bowler pulled down over her eyes. It was a classic Little Miss Sunshine moment, and I was a very proud papa.

After the show I was prepared to get some good-natured joshing and perhaps friendly reproof over letting Miss D.’s performance hit the church stage. As it turned out, I didn’t hear a peep of negativity. A lot of people came up and gushed at what a good job she did, and D. continued to get praise today in between meetings. More importantly, my usually self-critical and second-guessing daughter came out of it saying she had a great time and was really happy with her performance.

And that, for me, was the hit of the evening.