Chalk Filled Gyms and Dancers’ Bags…

Now I had offspring and somehow, between birth and homeschool I’d caught the awful American craze of organised sports for all children who could walk.  This is not an English thing, believe me!  In my homeland (and why am I not still there?) they come home from school and that’s it!  They eat their tea, do homework and play outside in the street.

No-one plays in our street, no-one even goes outside in our neighbourhood unless it’s to vandalise parked cars, prowl about the alleys or hang on corners in large groups.  Sooo, quite early on in my career as mother I put my pretty little foot down alongside my husband’s spurs and sternly insisted on one activity that all the children could do, together.  Since hubby was on the road most of the time he thought this was a brilliant idea and waved goodbye from the departure lounge.

First they took gymnastics.  With this intense sport I built a tolerance for crowded, chalk filled gyms, hard bleacher seats and the smell of sweaty gear.  These skills stood me in good stead for the next communal activity, ballet.  I soon discovered that a dancer’s bag seriously challenges any other sports bag when it comes to odiferous stenches!  As the children grew we transitioned to our final activity, which embraced adults as well as children, theatre.  This is where we have stayed for better or for worse.  We volunteer, perform and work at the local community theatres in Garland.  Directors and producers quip that all it takes is one phone call to our family to staff their shows.

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