Here's one of those things cool things about parenting: Our kids are not at all like us. Also, they are completely like us. Mostly, we notice the differences when we're trying to get them to do something they don't want to do. Mostly, we notice the similarities when our own unattractive and/or unappealing qualities show up in our kids.
One of the things C and I share is a certain discomfort level with public speaking or anything that causes us to be noticed. We can do both, but it's not usually a first choice.
So for years, C has avoided being in the Christmas Pageant. I've been sad about that, because I think he's clever and gorgeous and well-spoken and an asset to any situation. At the same time, I haven't applied much pressure, because I get where he's coming from.
This year, my parents put in a special call. Their church is short on kids. Also, all the other grandchildren have played numerous and various roles over the years and they didn't want C to miss out on this rite of childhood. C surprised me with his response: Nana, I'd love to do it.
Yesterday morning, as we drove to church for the first rehearsal, he reverted to form: I don't want to do this. I think there are other kids who would do a better job than me and I don't want to deprive them of the opportunity. (Style points for that one.)
Too late, though. He was committed and they really are short on kids - so short (especially in the male category) that he was assigned not one but two roles: The Innkeeper and a Wise Man.
Which Wise Man? I asked. The one who brings gold?
No, I get to bring the Mirth.