I had to wait until I got home (yay for home!) and could load up the pictures off my camera to share this story with y’all…
First a confession: I’ve gone to see Mamma Mia twice in the past three weeks. I suppose that’s not that bad — it could be worse — but I have to admit that I’ve had more fun than is probably reasonable for a 35-year-old to have at the movie. The first time, I went with a group of gal pals (eek, did I just write that?) here in Wichita. And it was lots of fun; I giggled all the way home. But the second time took the cake. Not only did I go with four sisters-in-law (as “payment” for letting our husbands play D&D the entire day before) but I had the experience of sitting next to a gay guy who was as infatuated with Mr. Darcy as I am. It truly made the movie. (Me: Sigh. Him: “Ah, Mr. Darcy.” Me: “That’s why we’re all here.” Him: “I just LOVE Mr. Darcy!” and at the end… Me: *laughing* “That is just priceless!” Him: “I’d pay $20 admission to see Colin Firth dressed like that!” I just about died laughing.) He even didn’t mind the singing, toe tapping and giggling from the five of us. In fact, he shook our hands and thanked us for the experience.
Anyway, whether it was the goofy fun of the movie, Meryl Streep dancing and singing at 59 years old (we were all mightily impressed), or the fact that we were all intoxicated from laughing too much (no alcohol, if you can believe that!), but one of the SILs suggested that we do a lip synch to Mamma Mia for the family talent show the following night. We all — still on an ABBA high — thought that was a brilliant idea, and headed over to Claire’s. At 8:55 p.m. We had more fun than should be allowed for a group of mostly 30-something women (toting two infants, too!) and spent more money than should be allowed for a family talent show number. We made the cashier’s night (the store closes at 9, but the cashier kept the store open for us until we were done…); she laughed at us the whole time, gave input on what would “work best” and said that she wished she could come see our final product. After much searching and trying on, this (and this is the whole point of the story, because I thought this was so wonderfully tacky that I had to share it) is what I came up with:
We did, in fact, go through with the number — we rehearsed for two hours! — and blew the “house” (well, our parents, our husbands, Hubby’s oldest sister and her husband, and all the grandkids) away with the number. I told Hubby that I only wanted stills and not a movie, and I have to admit that I regret that decision. But here’s a still one of the other husbands took of our dance:
(I’m there on the far end…unfortunately, I’ve taken off my glasses. I think they’re the best part…)
I’m back on the wagon now. No Colin Firth. No ABBA. Life is nice and boring and predictible now. (But isn’t it delightful to be completely crazy once in a while?)