fabaceous (adj) Having the nature of a bean; like a bean – from the Latin ‘faba,’ meaning bean.
Yes, I’ve been “on stage”. Don’t remember a spotlight though. What I do remember is being seven years old, in grade two with my best friend, and having a teacher with a flair for the dramatic.
“Once there lived side by side, two little maids,
Used to dress just alike, hair down in braids,
Blue gingham pinafores, stockings of red,
Little sun bonnets tied on each pretty head.”
We didn’t even have to audition for the parts. We were chosen. I think perhaps the cute factor had a lot more to do with it than any kind of talent. Picture the two of us at our school Christmas concert; braided hair, fussy little ruffled checkered aprons, red tights, sun bonnets made from bristol board and crepe paper. Shockingly gorgeous. Trotting out onto the stage arm in arm. Reciting the little poem in unison (there’s much more to it, but I’ll spare you that). Then we have to pretend to have a fight, and go stomping off to stage right and left respectively where we glare at each other, which makes us giggle. ( I improvised at rehearsal sticking out my tongue, but that part got cut.) Finally we sing this little refrain back and forth to each other, all snotty, hands on hips.
“I don’t want to play in your yard,
I don’t like you anymore,
You’ll be sorry when you see me,
Sliding down our cellar door,
You can’t holler down our rain barrel,
You can’t climb our apple tree,
I don’t want to play in your yard,
If you can’t be good to me.”
You HAVE to hear it to truly appreciate how adorable it must have been. There are several renditions on YouTube, all cloyingly sweet and gag-worthy.
Unfortunately no video exists for this particular performance, and not even one photograph. Nothing I’ve done on a stage since then has even come close. If we all get one shot at stardom, I guess that was mine.
I was thin, but I thought I was fat; smart, but I thought I was stupid.
Unhappy, although there was no good reason to be so.
Gorgeous, and I had no idea.
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