The Audition Ability She Gets Not From Me

At 13 years old, it's time for Fifi the violinist to find a reliable music group with which to play. She has one full semester and a couple of special projects under her belt, so she approached this audition with very realistic expectations. There are 5 levels of musicianship, from beginner to high school/college-aged touring group. She hoped to make the cut on level 2, but was prepared to be assigned to the lower, level 3.

The audition was over a week ago, and the results came by email today...


Read it aloud, Fifi! The suspense is killing me!

Uh...Mommy? It says...level...1.

Level 1? You didn't audition for level 1! Wha...? How...?

All I could think to say was that she'd better call her teacher. So, here she is calling her teacher. Her teacher said it wasn't a mistake.

Which caused me to look like this at random times, without warning, throughout the day. Fifi said she thought my emotional outbursts were sweet, cute and a handful of other darling adjectives--but mostly she just hugged me and said, "Oh Mommy..."

(And yes, this is really me. The cry didn't get any prettier as I grew, so...you know...let's watch it on a baby instead.)

Husband (who will heretofore be called Jim) handled it with more dignity. To celebrate, he brought home make-your-own-sundae ingredients. That's something we haven't done in...well...ever, that I can remember. Later, when the girls were bouncing off the walls during Bible time, Husband said something like, "I hope you enjoyed the ice cream girls, because we won't be doing that again."

And then Dumpling's retort went something like, "Oh Jim! You're playing."

And then he stared at me hard, trying to bite back the incredulous laugh that would forever cement his title as "Jim." I think he did it. I heard her call him Daddy again later.

Yum, Yum, sundaes! With a cherry or five on top.

I don't care if she is working on her first concerto. She's still my baby when she gets goofy like this.

All in all, a very delicious day!