It's Showtime in the Dadhood!

“ALL CITY Water Show”, the hand-out read, “Hosted by the City of Las Vegas”.

I knew that Eden, my youngest, had been going twice each week to the local public pool for “synchro-swimming class” since school let out for the summer, but I did not expect the aquatic equivalent of a dance recital!

Most of you know what I mean. Those presentations that are meant to be the pay-off to parents for their investments of money, time and patience so that their children may nurture whatever latent gifts they may possess in the creative arts.

Actually, latest studies indicate that attending such events releases a heretofore unknown hormone into the system that induces a short-lived form of schizophrenia which presents in an outward affect of a rictus, almost maniacal, smile combined with an obsessive-compulsive need to clap one’s hands and nod one’s head approvingly, regardless of the quality of the stimulus. Internally, the parent-subject endures a Battle Royal of primal emotions: Apprehension, Magical Thinking, Empathic Stress, Boredom, Self-Loathing (for being bored), Fight-or-Flight Syndrome accompanied by its manager, the Stopped Clock Illusion, among others. All combined in a Steel Cage Match to the Death (or the end of the show, whichever comes first).

As you may expect, last night I sat dutifully through the entire show with a smile that would have made the Joker envious, clapping like a seal on Ritalin and wondering silently just how pruney these children have to get before the whole thing is raided by Child Protective Services for over-saturation of minors.

When Eden’s team came on, of course, the hormone took over and I was dazed and amazed at the wonderfulness of her talent and aptitude as she swam, splashed, rolled and kicked her way through the routine. Then I made the startling historical connection: Eden’s grandfather, Danny, my dad, once worked as a stage manager for Billy Rose’s Aquacades in New York City, back in the 1930’s.

I heard myself proclaiming loudly to those around me, “Sure, she’s a natural. It’s all in the genes!!!” Ahem… yes, well... I’m feeling much better now…

And I praised my little girl to the skies, to her and anyone who would listen, because that’s how we roll in the Single Dadhood. We understand that, as a side benefit, the hormone also causes any memory of noticeable flaws to disappear, while magnifying to our eyes and embossing upon our hearts, the sheer joy in those little performing faces at the chance to entertain us.

Thankfully, for them and us, that is what we are graced to remember at the last…