Tuesday, January 3, 2017
Today Audra, her two little boys, and I went to the movies together. The movie we saw was Sing, an animated show about everyday creatures with hidden talents they have not had the opportunity to develop or showcase. It moves reasonably quickly and the songs are classics, sung by various animals which often seem at right angles to one's expectations for those songs. I loved that hilarious juxtaposition.
Little Ro, nearly 4 years young, lost interest in sitting and watching, somewhere around the middle of the show. He and I explored the lobby, pretended to play a few video games, looked at the posters, visited the bathrooms--whether we needed to or not--and checked out the candy selection. We went back inside to watch for a few minutes several times. He wanted to dance (didn't we all) and I was lucky enough to have a seat on the aisle. It was a long aisle with no stairs (that becomes important in the next paragraph) and he did a few cautious turns now and then.
When we stepped back into the theater for the third time, we stood at the back and listened/watched because I knew it wouldn't be a long stay. He quickly wanted to leave again but I encouraged him to "dance" there at the back. He apparently interpreted that as "do your own thing, sweetheart". He danced down the aisle, arms wide, moving to the music. When he reached the front, I assumed he would turn around and come back up the aisle. I was mistaken in this, as we usually are when we assume anything.
He skipped across the front and danced up the other aisle, then back down to the front for some more dancing. He never made a sound. Now and then he would take an empty seat and watch for a few seconds. I made my way closer to the front and took seat, so I could jump in, in case of disaster. He stood up front and stared straight up at the screen for a few seconds, then continued his little twirling dance up there until he fell down, right as the song ended at the big finale moment of the film. It may have been an intended slide ending and not a fall; I couldn't really tell.
I walked up then, gently took his hand and helped him up. He walked happily up the aisle with me and I congratulated him on his fantastic job of dancing. I thought it was unbelievably, breathtakingly wondrous; free dance at its finest. I neither know nor care what the other people in the theater thought of his dancing, but I did see lots of gentle smiles turned our way as we walked back up the aisle.
There are so many times when I see little children's joyous involvement with music squelched in public places out of fear that others will judge them, or us, harshly. I loved it that my lovely daughter let him go, let him embrace the music and dance in the moment. She is quite fond of this brightly shining little boy. What a good mother she is.