Graduation is a week away. My nuggets know their parts, sorta. I have the copies made. The dress was bought (and crumbled in the bag somewhere in the backseat of my mother's car). The music is ready and so am I!
We've been practicing for about two weeks now. Having 60+ five year olds on stage is about as close to paradise as Louisiana is to China. They are tired, they are squished, their legs hurt, they have to pee, there is a bug in their eye...always something right?
Well today was a whole other level! One nugget blew chunks- now I dont particularly like this phrase but it's the only one fitting because that is exactly what happened: CHUNKS! The lord was looking down on us though because we had just called the names of the kids right in front of the spewer so it missed them and just hit the bleachers.
Think that's all that happened?! Not even close. We had a mystery pooper! Some nugget dropped a friend right on the stage, in the general walking path, and wouldn't fess up. There was a trial of shadoobie down the stage, the steps and onto the floor before we noticed. After a lengthy investigation we still have not caught the pooper-petrator.
9 days is all there is left, have my nuggets saved all their crazy until now? A
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