Growing up faster than I can really keep track of...

The other night George stayed at rehearsal by himself, because his dad was in the same building having a rehearsal for a show that he's in, and it really didn't seem like I needed to sit there as well. The plan was that if George finished first, he could either go find his dad or stay and watch the rest of his own play until his dad came to get him. George is only in the first of the three acts of the play, and hadn't yet seen the whole thing. Well, his dad's rehearsal lasted much longer, so George got to see his entire play which, as I have mentioned, is quite heavy and depressing. (Again, it's Arthur Miller's All My Sons.)

Yesterday George was talking about it, and about how heavy it was, and I told him I was really sorry that he had to see that without either of his parents there. He asked me what I meant by that, and I told him that when you see something disturbing, it can make you feel kind of lonely and sad, and it's comforting to have a parent with you. As usual, was he one step ahead of me.... "Mom, please. Were you sitting right there with me when I read the end of Hamlet? No, you were not. And I was just fine. So don't worry about it. Ok?"

Ok!