Freestone's Fifteen Minutes

All the kids, at some point this week, were in a recital. They all did a great job, but Freestone was the only one who had me in tears, laughing. First of all, I did a lousy job of wiping his face, so he had red popsicle stains all along his jawline. His hair was sticking up so bad in the back, it looked like a magpie nest. Just prior to the recital, I was involved in a panel discussion with other Suzuki parents. Meanwhile the children were having story time and gorging themselves on cookies. So when they brought Free in, his mouth was ringed in chocolate. And his Oxford and khakis didn't look as good as they had when we left home. This was a Suzuki event, like I said, so if you've been to one, you know how many kids are rolling around on the floor waiting for their turn to perform. These are the kids with the masochistic parents who stick musical instruments in their babies' hands while they're still in diapers. So when Freestone's turn came, he jumped up off the floor, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and made a big display of jumping emphatically off every step on his way down the aisle. He got to his stool and did a very theatrical bow, shouting, "HippopotaMUSIC!!" Everyone clapped, and Freestone was in heaven. He got all the way through his song (Twinkle Variation A), but he was so enamored with the audience that people actually clapped during some of the pauses where Free was admiring his crowd. After the song, Free jumped up, smiled, bowed, and...just stood there, transfixed by the fact that everyone was looking at him. I could tell he was trying to think of something else to do to entertain the crowd. In the panel discussion I had just been in, I had written down a comment about "enjoying the doing more than the getting done." Well, Freestone was in the moment, enjoying the doing, so I let him stand there beaming while I tried to impress the moment on my memory. The picture I'll treasure in my mind is my tiny little son, wrestling a big guitar, peacock-feather hair, shoes on wrong, dusty and covered in chocolate, reaping the reward for all his practicing. He did it! And it felt great.