The Schoolhouse Rocked

Yesterday afternoon we caught a matinee of the kid's school's fall musical, Schoolhouse Rock Live! Jr. Imagine a bunch of little squirts singing your favorite edu-ma-cational shorts from all those Saturday morning cartoons you used to watch as a kid. Awwwwww. Yeah, it was that cute.

Each class took part in one number, and the kindergartners' song was that little ditty about Manifest Destiny called "Elbow Room." I had been hearing Ainsley sing it at least half-a-dozen times each day this week, plus she wanted to watch that song on our Schoolhouse Rock DVD every day this weekend, so I thought I was pretty tired of hearing it. Talk about something that will get stuck in your head. Sing it with me now!

Elbow room, elbow room!
Gotta gotta get us some elbow room.
It's the west or bust
In God we trust
There's a new land out there!

But seeing the kid do it with the other little kindergarten baby-faces, and watching them do little choreographed moves for all the verses (and there are quite a few of them) I got such a case of the cutesy-gigglies that I had to wipe a tear or two from my eyes. It was worth missing my Sunday afternoon nap for.

The other classes were terribly precious, too, especially the 1st-graders, who did "Unpack Your Adjectives." The song itself was adorable (they all had little visors and backpacks and ran from a huge-but-not-remotely-frightening plush bear!), but what really cracked me up was how they all huddled into one side of the stage at the beginning, and when a backstage mom got their attention and motioned for them to spread and for some to go the other side, they acted like lemmings and all went and huddled on the opposite side. Remind me never to volunteer to be a backstage mom; it seemed too much like herding cats.

We were worried that Ainsley's shyness would cause her to stand frozen on stage with her fingers in her mouth like she did at our church's vacation bible school final show last summer, but the little thing did quite well and sang most of the time and did her choreography with flair. She has said she wants to do this kind of thing again. And is talking about wanting to take dance lessons. A diva is born!

Which is fine with me. Any Sunday afternoon that I can spend watching munchkins sing, dance, and mess up their stage directions to humorous effect is a good Sunday afternoon, indeed.