So after months of preparation and even more months it seems of yapping about it, Bleh's daughter's performance in the Nutcracker is almost here. All month long it's been "Nutcracker this!" and "Nutcracker that!"
Oh joy.
I used to be indifferent about the traditional holiday show, but now I downright loathe it. Pictures of The Daughter are pulled out of Bleh's desk at regular intervals to see for anyone who's dumb enough to stop by her desk. "Emergency" phone calls have been made to others in the building about the possibility of rain during a parade in which The Daughter would be wearing the now-famous $300 tutu.
Oh. Egads. Not rain. Anything but rain... [Eye-roll.]
There's even a flyer (made by Bleh, of course) promoting the show on the office bulletin board, right next to the shared calendar. Any time I want to add something to the calendar, I have to see her kid in that damned tutu.
I'd like to think that after Saturday I won't have to hear about The Daughter or The Tutu ever again, but we all know that's just a fantasy.
2 comments:
Just remember that The Daughter will give up ballet when she discovers the joys of drugs and promiscuity...
Go to the show. When Bleh solicits feedback, say, "It was nice, but I hated it. I mean, it was good, but I was miserable."
Nothing can compare to the Memphis Nutcracker on Rollerskates!
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