Right. So I came here, blamed my lack of posting on my keyboard, bragged about my fabulously stable mental health and newly-restored ability to type commas...and then promptly peaced out for the rest of the week. Sorry. I accidentally watched that Back-to-School Essentials PSA video and had to go back to bed and cry for two days straight.
(If you don't know what I'm talking about and are tempted to click that link...go ahead! Ruin your damn day! What do I care! Just wash all your eye makeup off first, find a nice safe corner to curl up in, and grab a pillow to muffle your sobs. Also try not to watch it while your children are literally walking out the front door to their bus stop like I did.)
ANYWAY. Hair flip, check mah nails, change the goddamn subject.
Today Ike starts an after-school drama program, the result of YEARS of me hinting/suggesting/pleading with him to put all of that copious ham and cheese where it belongs: THE STAGE!!
(In tonight's performance, the role of Yorick's Skull will be performed by a fistful of bubbles.)
The show is Elf Jr. (the Musical). And Ike is ready to play an elf. Or a reindeer. Or Santa! Or maybe just a tree. He's got range, is the point.
The show isn't until December but oh my God, I cannot wait. Trying not to go full stage mother on him (SING OUT, LOUISE!!!!) but the kid's been performing since he figured out how his facial muscles worked and that his limbs were connected to his body. It's The Ike Show, now in its 8th record-breaking year!
(Someone comb that poor child's hair! Where is his mother??)
(Cropped out right next to him because her hair was also a Sweaty Sight.)
Anyway, if disheveled wide-eyed street urchins aren't your jam, here is Poppy wearing the Cone of Shame. Don't you want to give her all your treats and money?
Don't let her sucker you. She just injured one of her toenails and needs to stop licking it. But she really is giving off Ophelia-levels of tragic realness, right? Maybe she should dog-model.