As everyone knows, the mommies who have the least amount of time always end up baking the cupcakes, driving on the field trips, and directing the Christmas Play. This phenomenon, harkening back to my own mother's participation, has now resulted in email conversations consisting of "we know you would be perfect", and "it really isn't all that hard". Who could resist the personal kudos and warm fuzzies emulating from such praise? A sucker, that's who. And you're reading about her.
I have just returned from a meeting at which I was delegated (and half-volunteered) to write the timeless classic "A Baby is Born on a Farm in a Box", to quote Bear, who is just beginning to notice the fuss over this Baby Jesus guy. In little more than 24 hours, I am to come up with a script, characters, and music for our Christmas Eve family service, all without damaging any pint-sized egos, parental expecations, or church furniture.
I wonder if I could just play "Christmas Karaoke Dance Party" and let the kids boogie down the aisle, no memorization required, and we do have a big screen to project the words. As long as they are in English.
Hey! Unto You a Child is Born!