Opera-tunities

Araceli's attitude is so effusive and enthuisiastic, it borders on manic. Last week, she gave her cello teacher, an older gentleman, a card that said, "I love you, Mr. Casals!" For months, she told everyone she met that we got a new minivan. She was so excited about it, I think some of the strangers she told were genuinely happy for us!

This year, she is old enough to go to the opera, and she's thrilled. The first one was Cinderella, which, of course, she loved. This time, as we sat down in our seats, Ari gleefully arranged her cushion (to make her taller) and settled in. She turned to me and chirped, "What is it this time, Cinderella?" I said, "No, it's called Don Giovanni."
Delighted, She crowed, "Oh! It sounds like Snow White!!" I asked her how Don Giovanni sounds like Snow White, and she said that it "sounds like Snow White in a diffwent language!" (Everything she says comes out in bold type!)

When the curtain went up, Ari's enthusiasm wasn't dampened at all by the fact that the opera was more about a murderous, amoral womanizer than a beautiful princess. Every time I looked at her, she would exude joy in her smile and by lifting up her little shoulders as if to say, "This is so exciting!" I was relieved that she couldn't read the supertitles enough to catch what was going on. Golda and Ruby, on the other hand, would lean over and glare at me accusingly every time a line came up like, "May you be consumed by demons, Don Giovanni, for your amorous treachery!"

At intermission, we had a family party to get to, and I remembered that the second act is about Don Giovanni burning in a fiery he**, so we left. I thought the flames of purgatory might be too much for Araceli's unquenchable happiness.

As we walked (and Ari skipped) up the street, I felt so lucky to be a player in Araceli's reality, where it's always sunny, there is always a friend coming over, and everything is incredibly exciting and new. Ah, to be six!