Favorite Kids Theatre Quotes

No exciting stories yet, so I'll give you some shorts:













(1) A girl walks up to the welcome table. Without any prompting for an intro she says to us:

"My name is Callie. I'm a Christian, so this is going to be hard for me."

Huh!?!?!

I work at a children's camp! We cater to child-ren! We're not doing Spring Awakening, Passion, or Hair. We were doing Wizard of Oz. How is this going to be "hard" for you?



(2) There was a boy named Marcus. He was good, I admit. And he knew it. His posse knew it too.

I came back from lunch and the first thing I saw was Marcus turn to his 4 lady followers and say,

"You don't have to tell me I'm pretty. I already know."



(3) A little girl returned for a second week. She was a very innocent sweet girl. I doubt she even knows more than one or two swear words.

She was working on being less inhibited and doing well.

During the cold reading portion of our first-day auditions. She was bold as could be when she read the line, "Shut your trap, you CRAB-ASS!"

The line actually read, "Shut your trap, you crabgrass."

The best part of the story is that we, the five teachers, all looked at each other and EXPLODED in laughter. So professional, right?



(4) And finally, my own proudest moment of the summer . . . ! [cue the trumpets]

I was explaining that everyone's vocal chords are different. Just like our faces have the same parts but still look completely different, so do our vocal chords have similar structure with slight alterations for each person. Of course, it didn't quite come out that way.

"Everyone's vocal chords are different," I began teaching. "even though they contain the same parts. Just like we all have eyes, a nose, and a mouth . . . Well, at least everyone in here has them."

Can you see the stunned faces of 20 teenagers? Frozen in time. So awkward. Finally someone laughed. Of course it wasn't a kid, it was my co-teacher laughing at my GIANT faux-pas. The kids started laughing too and all I could do is turn to the room and say,

"Wow, That's not funny at all, is it?"

I don't think anyone was really offended but I do think they enjoyed the biggest flippant disregard of PC-ness that company has ever seen.

Awesome.

Put it in the books, "Least tasteful human deformity joke--Todd."

Thanks guys. I'll accept this award on behalf of all the one-eyed, no-nosed, mouthless people. Shout out to the faceless!

I Don't Make This Stuff Up!

I'm so glad people are reading my blog!

Awesome.

Sorry I don't have a story for you now. I don't make this stuff up so we have to wait til something awesome happens. My apologies.

BUT,
I want Blogger friends! If you have a blog leave a link in my comments (can you do that?) so I can follow you. I need more blogs to read.

Thanks again,

Todd

PS. We're doing Legally Blonde this week at work. Hence the really happy, peppy typing. Sorry. I know it's obnoxious. And I added a goofy picture cause I hear pictures draw more readers.

Shortbus Drops off at Dunkin Donuts

I'm pretty sure the Dunkin Donuts I went to this morning recently had a community outreach hiring session. Of the four lovely ladies working only one was . . . well . . . lovely. The poor normal one looked like she had been thrown into a room of rats and was clearly trying her best to stay as far away from the others as possible.


An employee came over to help me and I feared something would fall in my coffee; A hair, something living in her hair, a tooth prehaps? Something was going to fall from her face and surprise me later. Still I put on my brave face and ordered.

I teach children and through text message I had offered my fellow teachers coffee, too. But I couldn't remember what they had ordered.

"I'll have a . . . um . . . Just a sec I need to check the text."

"Tell them to stop texting you."

Nobody was behind me, I wasn't holding up a line. Rude!

"No, I'm checking her order. . . She'll have a peach tea."

"Oh I know her." (Really? Is there only one person getting peach tea these days?!) She continued, "She's pregnant, right?"

I shot her a look. . . I know, rude. But I had to.

"Um, no."

I walked over to the register to wait my turn to pay. The customer in front of me was trying to order a dozen donuts. I wasn't expecting the register lady to be MORE INCOMPETENT than the first employee.

"I'll get six regular glazed, two chocolate egg white--"

"Oh those can't be in a dozen."

"Ok, I'll have two chocolate cake donu--"

"Those don't either."

"Really? Ok, well how about the maple bars."

"Sorry not those either."

"Wait really? I've never heard of that before. Which ones can I get?"

"Only the glazed ones."

"Huh?" You mean, all the other ones you have to buy separately?"

"No, you can get a dozen of those if you'd like."

"I thought that's what I was ordering."

"Oh. I thought you were just getting a dozen glazed donuts. That's a different price. Sorry."

The customer was very polite, but now talking the way you would to a 5-yr-old. "That's okay. Let's start over."

She ordered her donuts and my turn came. I paid for my things without major incident, although I did put the extra juice back as to avoid any unnecessary difficulty. I didn't know, maybe the extra juice I really didn't need anyway would have made the ol' noggin blow!?

What a trip! I left the establishment and opened my breakfast. I was not surprised to find the third "special" worker (who was working the back toaster--toasters are hard!) had given me a sausage sandwich and not a veggie. And thankfully I did NOT find any body parts in my drink.

Usually bad service turns me away from an establishment. But, like Paris Hilton's New BFF and RuPaul's Drag Race, I'm more anxious than ever to go back and see what hot mess happens next time.

Awesome!

Future Niece has some 'TUDE!

Our Fourth of July highlight (and by highlight I mean it was really all we did) was observing a four-year-old's fairy birthday party. She's adorable, and FOUR.

Last Thursday we were at Austin's family's Family Dinner and this four-year-old would NOT eat her chicken.

She cried and cried and cried about it. "No! I don't want to eat my chicken! NO! Noooooo! Noo-ho-ho-ho-ho! Pleeeease just let me go swimming!"

Her mom: "Not til you eat your chicken."

"I don't want to eat my chicken."

"We know. Eat your chicken."

She suddenly stopped crying, "How about instead of chicken I just have a cheese sandwich."

"No you need to eat your chicken."

"Ok, I'll just have a cheese sandwich first and then I'll eat my chicken."

"No. Eat your chicken."

Austin decided to go for what she loves most. "If you don't eat your chicken your hair will fall out." The poor girl will be so confused for a long time; I imagine this little girl seeing a leukemia patient and yelling, "You should have eaten your chicken!"
Still, no chicken had been eaten.

We stopped watching her for a minute and just ignored the yelling. Again, a sudden silence filled the room.

"I'm going to eat my chicken!" She said, "Yay for me! Yay!" (Someone has watched too much self-praising children's television.) Then she started her OWN chant, "Jocie, Jocie, Jocie!" The adults in the room followed like so many do when the late Billy Mays tells us to call the number on the screen.
"Jocie! Jocie!"

She put the chicken in her mouth and a cheer filled the air. Hands lifted like Rocky, the little girl had been victorious! . . . kind of.

It didn't take long before her face left the Land of Hope and Wonder and quickly plummeted into must have been the deepest Pit of Disgust. She opened her mouth and spit it out hoping that if we watched how much she sincerely didn't like her chicken, we wouldn't make her eat it.

After the dust settled we noticed her plate now had only 2 of her previous 4 bites of chicken.

"What happened to the rest of your chicken, Jocie?"

No answer.

I made the next mistake and asked, "Did you eat it?"

Perfect opportunity to half shake her head, yes, and by-so-doing 'accidentally' lie about eating the rest of the chicken.

We searched the area and discovered the missing specimen in a bowl on the counter neatly tucked underneath the leftover green peppers.

"I'm just going to go to the bathroom real fast and then I'll come back and eat my chicken."

She ran off to the 'bathroom' and came out with her hands behind her back. She carefully walked to the door and realized her plan had a flaw! She couldn't open the door with her hands behind her back and in an attempt to quickly open the door revealed her concealed swimming suit as she jetted out the door. None of us got up after her. Grandma was outside and we all knew Grandma wasn't going to let her swim until Mom said it was okay. Despite her lying to Grandma, Jocie was shortly back in the house at square one:

"NOOOOO!!!! I DON'T WANT TO EAT MY CHICKEN!"

Grandma went upstairs to change. Jocie cried about the chicken.

[Insert same for about five minutes: "No! . . . Swimming! . . . Chicken! . . . Cheese Sandwich!!!"]

Grandma came back downstairs where our little one was still crying. That is, until she noticed Grandma had return.
"I DON'T WANT TO EAT MY CHICKEN! I DON'T WANT TO EAT MY CHI . . . Is that your swimsuit!?"

Nice change of subject, but who knew that a four-year-old would pick a 'fashion emergency' as her subject of choice. I have never seen a little girl so sincerely concerned for her Grandmother's attire. A pretty little face full of disgust, devastation, and embarrassment, not over the half hour wasted fighting the chicken, but in despair over a backyard-lounging fashion disaster.

Awesome.

Jocie's mom took her home after that.
But thank God that she fought for as long as she did.

It was worth it. And hey, she never did have to eat that chicken.

Gay Bashed by an Eight Year Old!

So I'm at work right now and made a new little friend named Cole. Little Cole is eight and a smart one. Not the best behaved kid, but in his defense he's not in a lot of scenes in this week's show so he has to sit quietly more than any of the other kids. So today I decided to let him sit at the table next to me.

I had my computer open which started the conversation: (Mind you, this is our dialogue almost verbatim)

"You have a lot of girl friends."
"You think she's pretty?"
"No, YOU do though." (This was said as a comeback to my apparent insult.)
"I do actually."
"Is that your wife?"
"No."
"But you're married aren't you?"
"No."
"Really? But you're like what--19 or 20?"
"24."
"Woah! And you don't have a wife?! But you do have a girlfriend, don't you, cause if you don't that's PATHETIC!" (This eight year old just called me pathetic!)
"Kinda I do."
"Kinda?"
(He looked down and saw a pink paper clip)
"Is this pink paper clip yours? (It wasn't) It is isn't it! You have a pink paper clip AND you play the piano?! I don't know about that."
(WHAT?!?! He's eight! Where is this coming from?
He had complete control of this conversation now. And I was rolling with laughter. He continued.)
"I need to delete some of those girls from your Facebook. That's just ridiculous. You know you should be a date man. (I'm guessing he meant Matchmaker) You have lots of girls to set up."
(Finally my turn.)
"You want me to set you up on a date."
"Hey now. (I kid you not he said Hey now.) I'm only eight. Give me a break. I still got some time til I gotta deal with them. You probably don't even really have a girlfriend do you! You probably have a bbbooooyyyfffrrriieeennnnddd. Is he tall and hunky?! I'll bet he's tall and hunky." (Where does he get his material?!)

That's when Ally called him to join the group. Whew!

Not to worry though the class ended with my new little friend asking me, "Where are you going for lunch? Don't you want to eat with me?"

Awesome.