Throwback Thursday: Do You Know Where Your Children Are?

While participating in #NaBloPoMo, I will be doing a few weekly themed posts so I don’t have to think so hard some days. Thus, I bring you the first of a November of Throwback Thursday posts, in which I tell stories about dumb things I did as a child or teen since I cannot be prosecuted for those things anymore (I think.)

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When I was at the height of my preschool years– or maybe kindergarten, I wasn’t counting– my mom took me to my first concert. It was lit.

sharon-lois-bram-elephant-show-984x500

I was a big Sharon, Lois, and Bram fan. We called ourselves ShaLoBras. That was monogrammed on the hats we used to protect our faces when kids at school kicked the snot out of us for being dorks that watched a show about an elephant and three adults who were way too old to still be doing that shit.

For those of you not familiar, Sharon, Lois, and Bram had a television show that also starred what I am assuming was an adult in an elephant costume. It aired on Nickelodeon many, many years before Sponge Bob and was pretty popular. You never knew who the hell any of their guest stars were because the show was actually Canadian. I am not sure about the elephant’s nationality.

The concert was a life highlight. I remember specific, little details. I remember the sun beaming down on a warm day. I remember my mother packing Teddy Grahams and being stoked on that. I remember bringing a copy of The Runaway Bunny that I was hoping to get signed because I thought an autograph book was just a random book you brought from home to collect autographs in. In hindsight, my mother should have taken my attachment to that particular book as a warning.

I informed my mom of my plans to get autographs from the group. She dismissed it as she does all of my dreams. Thanks, Mom. Sharon, Lois, and Bram came onstage and I danced my heart out to classics like Skinnamarink and (end of list. I don’t remember any others.) As a parent myself, I assume that this was when my mother tuned out and waited for the horror that is a children’s concert to end. Soon, she realized I was gone.

Don’t worry. I wasn’t abducted or drinking floor cleaner. I was on stage, making my own dreams come true and becoming a star.

For all of us who have lost a kid at one point or another in a public place, I think most of us react with relief when we find our child. Our immediate next motion is anger that the little jerks made us run around and raised our blood pressure to mile-high levels. I think about finding my kids among library shelves or in a part of a play area I didn’t expect them to venture into, and I try to imagine what I would feel if I was freaking out that they had been snatched up by a stranger only to find them busting their best white-girl moves on stage with a giant furry.

I don’t remember my mom’s reaction. I’m sure it was kinder than I deserved for running off in a very crowded place. Everything after going up on stage is a blur. The only things I have left are a lifetime thirst for attention and a copy of The Runaway Bunny autographed by three old people and an elephant.

This post was brought to you by #NaBloPoMo or National Blog Post Month. I will be writing a blog post every day for the month of November. Probably right before midnight a little more often than I would like.

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