So Monday at about four or so I came in from a long day of work {it really wasn't that long, as I adore my job, but it most certainly makes life sound more dramatic}to find Sister so dang excited about performing a musical number for the ward that evening. I was not so excited about it. So I avoided it. I started to clean the house and get things checked off of my daily TODO list, avoiding eye contact with Sister as she was getting more excited as time crept forward. Then she mustered up her courage and asked me to rehearse.
This is when the first round of tears came. "Sister, I don't want to." This was my initial plee which she ignored as she turned the music on. I kept cleaning and ignored her as she sang her part of the duet. Then she did the muster thing again and asked again. A few more tears, "Sister, I really don't want to do this. I get nervous and I get sick." She smiled and started to make that Phyllis/Marcia guilt face ~ I'm not sure when she perfected that or when I missed the lessons on how to perfect this face. I was not certain I was going to win.
I again conveyed, this time in a more dramatic manner, how much I did not want to sing this little diddy in front of a crowd, friendly faces or not. She was having none of it, again having perfected Phyllis/Marcia methods. So I pulled out the phone, a disagreement between daughters is best resolved by a loving Papa. But I was not thinking. Please do not misunderstand, Papa was very understanding. But this is the man that asks for a version of 'Sisters' at ridiculous hours anytime his children are home. He wanted a video of the performance, no matter the sick-anxious-tearful-state of his favorite daughter.
Sister was convinced she had won but I had a hidden ace {not literally, he's in California and likely would have sided with Sister}. I called Gramps. Gramps, after hearing a full explanation from his calm and favorite granddaughter, told me that there was likely something I had not completed at the office that day and as a responsible employee it was my duty to return and complete this task. I conveyed the decision of Gramps to Sister and she was not thrilled. She kept playing the music, changing into her dress, and dancing around the dining room table. I sat on the top of the stairs, tears streaming down my face, reminding her in a calm voice {the tears were something I could not help but I could keep my voice calmer than cucumber} that I was not able to do this. She just kept singing {people think she's the nice one} and making that do-what-I-tell-you-face.
After about ten minutes on the top of the stairs with tears streaming down my face and Sister singing and dancing below {mind you we are now at five past six as I put up a good fight} I came down. With arms crossed and a scowl on my face I rehearsed. I did not dance, I barely made eye contact with her. We went through it, my mood unchanging, three times. We were far from prepared.
Then she pulled the ULTIMATE Phyllis/Marcia line, "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, I'd be disappointed but if it's what YOU want then that's fine." Then she left. WHAT!?! Not fair!! With tears in my eyes I called my mother ~ perhaps all of these calls is a reason I'm not married {not -a-, not -the-, I'm not daft}. Mom was a bit more understanding and reminded me that this wasn't that big of a deal, I actually did not have to do this but Sister would certainly appreciate it, prime example of the guilt these Mount women are capable of dishing out.
I drove to the church, shaking. I walked into the church, shaking. I stood there in the church, waiting for things to start, shaking. I changed, shaking. I announced that I was not excited about this song to the crowd, shaking. I sang, wringing my hands like Lady Macbeth only not out of guilt but rather out of fear, they were still shaking. Sister danced and helped the crowd enjoy things, I shook and was grateful to get those last notes out.
I might have smiled curtly at the hoops and hollers. I had taken off my glasses prior to the performance so I couldn't even see friendly faces in those first few rows. I could not make out the reaction, the hollers could have been in sympathetic. I changed back into my favorite leggings {its amazing the things that bring comfort into my life} and put my glasses back on, bringing the world back into view. I came back into the room and sat down. CM leaned forward and told me that he had fallen back in love with me {I may or may not have driven his car out of his driveway without him in it on Sunday evening, with him needing it Monday morning ... some may use the word 'stealing' but I don't ~ see picture below for proof} but he's an easy audience. Curly is about as easy of an audience, his smiles and over-generous comments were far from accurate. Juls was an honest audience member, 'Not bad' ... so the bottom line here is ... it's over. Don't ask me to sing ~ tears and calls to my Gramps will follow. And if you are as heartless as Sister, well, I'll likely end up singing but I'll cry before and for a minute after and then shake throughout. I won't hate you but I will be frustrated with you for a bit.
I'd much rather be 'stealing' a car ... truth.
