I really try to not overthink things, however in this situation I am required to overthink it. My main fear at this point, is that grade Kindergarten thru 3rd grade are allowed to bring tomatoes to my performance as Pocahontas. Yes...that's right... I am to become Pocahontas.
I'm terrified that I'm going to sweat so much that I will have my own illegal sweat lodge in my fake fur and pink beads. (I'm a stickler for details such as this, the East Coast Native Americans didn't look like Plains tribes, nor SouthWest tribes, this really bothered me until as I researched their clothing in the pictures, the women just wore little skirts and were essentially topless. Yah Authentic schmentic, where's the pink plastic beads?!). It's the details in information that I'm worried about, like how many times did the Powhatan tribe attack the James Fort? Ok I realize that this is what I will sound like to the children "HI! My name is Pocahontas, I'm a strangely old woman pretending to be young(isn't that what Sharon Stone does?) Blah blah blah blah. Pumpkins and turkey. blah blah blah. Movie....blah blah blah". When I rehearsed with my kids it didn't give me the confidence boost I was hoping for...they yawned and asked me when I was going to be done.
I plan on creating another personality that will take over when all the papers come to me when the kids start school. This new personality will stand behind me with a hammer, if I begin to say "Why YES it will be fun to do Women in History and perform for children" my other personality will promptly break my right hand. The alternative is too horrible to think about.
My kids are going to be testing for their yellow belt in Shotokan karate. It is a source of fear as all you parents know, that your little ones are going to be judged on their abilities, so basically they judge your kids on if they can control their spastic little limbs, that somehow resembles a kata.
Now to the Green part. Here's my version of a lucky clover for St. Patrick's Day. I'm not Catholic, I'm Protestant, there may be a small amount of Irish in my genes- apparently not enough to drink that God forsaken beer! I'll just have a Margarita with my Protestant butt instead, and respect the Irish for their Coolness!
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