The activities of the celebration were songs and poems. They sang songs together and then read individual poems. The types of poems were: "I remember," "Pretend you're a," and more free-form pieces. Good times. The crowd favorites were a piece about the unborn baby in a mom's tummy and a piece about how beautiful a mommy is. Aaaah. Talk about playing to the audience.
Okay, don't read past here if you want to keep your good-ish opinion of me.
Still with me? Figures.
There was a moment when a girl in the class was questioning the teacher about his handling of the microphone between readings.
(Oh, yes, the event was mic-ed, though the kids didn't quite understand the principle of speaking intelligibly into the mic. "Whoooo! Hee, hee. Hi. mbllmib by mubblemeep. unglemung muh neebolphrip. noopah mmMMmmoobah. Whoooo!")
She was badgering him with, "Why are you doing it like this? ... Why not...?"
A mom in front of me was very enthusiatic and said, "Oh, she's good. When she's older she's going to make a great - "
And in the break where she was trying to figure out the right profession - producer, executive, manager, I don't remember which - my mind blurted,
" - ex-wife. She's going to make a fantastic ex-wife."
Luckily my mouth didn't kick in.
(I'm glad that some of you weren't here, because I would have been too tempted. You know who you are. To twist Ogden Nash: I know I'm incorrigible, so I don't need you to incorrige me.)