Casting for our camp happened on Tuesday morning. My mini-me (so decreed when she first walked into camp three years ago) presented me with an acrostic poem she had written the night before about casting. Because of course she did. Because this is exactly what I would have done when I was nine years old.
The poem:
You shouldn't care what part you get. They're all so
Outstanding. None are bad. No need to be sad or an
Ugly sport. You are happy. You are now
Responsible for making them come alive.
Please don't parade your lines, dances, and songs
And you will have such a
Really amazing, fun, wonderful, laughter filled
Terrific time!
She's playing the Ugly Duckling.
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