What a Wonderful World

I suspect that I may be the first person ever to have cried during the kindergarten production of Peter Rabbit. I guess I really didn't cry during the play, I managed to control myself until the medley of kindergarten favorites that immediately followed the performance.

I think it would be fair to say that I am someone whose emotions are close to the surface. In short, I am a weeper. I have even developed a rating scale for how emotional something makes me. There is the misty eyed look, where the tears are just beginning to develop, also easily camouflaged—the "there must be something in my eye" sort. Stage two occurs when the tears actually well over and spill onto the cheeks. Next, comes that semi-serious flow of tears, the dripping off the chin and onto the shirt type. And finally, we have the unabashed, unapologetic, blubbering, blotchy faced, don't care who sees or what happens to my eye makeup, ask a complete stranger for a Kleenex kind of tears.

For what it is worth, Peter Rabbit triggered tears that were somewhat more serious than just teary eyes. This time, I didn't even feel them coming, but somewhere during the Louis Armstrong song, "What a Wonderful World," with the children singing along and also signing the words, and David so obviously moved by the music, I lost it. I had been thinking about what a wonderfully successful year David is finishing. And how happy he is. And how far his language has progressed. And how David managed to respectfully decline the offer of a speaking part, but took his job introducing the play very seriously.

Yes, I cried and I don't really care who knows it. I am proud of David, who works so hard for each baby step and that is the only Mother's Day present that I need. (Well, that and the brand new potting bench that I received to replace the shabby one that sits on our soon-to-be replaced deck—thanks, guys.) So, to quote David, "Happy Mom-mom's Day."