– Plus Life and Times of carolkmail

A Play Called Cinders

It is that time of the term again. Another first for me. As you can guess, I was not going to miss it. This time, we were being treated to a play called Cinders. A small boy comes to the mike and announces; ‘This play is about mummies and daddies. Once there was a mummy and a daddy’…. Yes, I know. I almost fell off my seat. No, I’m not a drama queen. You should have seen the shocked expressions on parents’ faces. Me, I’m always optimistic. I decide I’ll give it a chance. You can however smell the shock emanating from the rest of my gang members, aka parents. The looks of I-pay-them-to-teach-this is not lost on the head teacher. Pleasant woman that. Good sense of humor too!

So this mummy and daddy apparently got a baby girl and named her Cinders. And villagers came to congratulate the new parents and dance around a bonfire and toss the baby around. Seriously, they did.

Then Cinders’ mummy dies. Exactly! It was turning out to be a horror play. Surely, do these kids even comprehend what death is? I almost got my boy out of there quick! But patience can become me. Guess what happens next? Yep! Cinders’ daddy remarries. Go on, I dare you to curse a 5 year old daddy. Now Cinders has sisters to play with and keep her company, right? WRONG! Enter evil step-mummy, who sends Cinders straight to the kitchen to do housework while daddy has gone to work to look for food. At least there’s some lesson here, daddies do go to work to look for food.

Poor Cinders continues doing housework, singing the saddest songs you have ever heard! And she was good! Do you know how hard it is to hate a cute little girl playing evil step-mummy? I told you it was turning out to be a horror play!

There was a ball at the King’s palace. Of course, step-mummy makes sure that her daughters go to the ball and bans Cinders from going. Poor Cinders cries in the kitchen until fairy god-mummy appears to sort her out for the ball. You know, cute dress, dazzling glass slippers, pretty make-up, horse and carriage (no babies were turned into pumkin and horses in the production of this play) and she is off to the ball, with warning to return before the clock strikes midnight. We all know how this story ends. And Cinders lived happily ever after with a drop dead handsome prince.

P.s: The star, my star, played back-up singer and a spectacular ball-room dancer. He has potential this kid. I was proud.

Advertisements

10 responses

  1. When they make the parents do a play, call me, I will want to see you in that!

    December 1, 2010 at 3:03 pm

    • carolkmail

      See, for fear of self-incrimination or encouraging you, I shall reserve the veeery smart comment in my head 😀

      December 1, 2010 at 5:27 pm

  2. Well someone’s got to teach kids these things! The fact that the parents are, well, taken aback means they’re not the ones doing the teaching 🙂

    December 1, 2010 at 4:46 pm

    • carolkmail

      Birds and bees? At that age???? O come on! The thought of it is even illegal! I wish the teachers luck in imparting the said knowledge.

      December 1, 2010 at 5:29 pm

  3. The parents expected the kiddies to give a Biology crash course on how babies are made?

    I want to hear about that one ambitious kid who sings seven octaves higher than everybody else in the choir.

    December 2, 2010 at 4:39 pm

    • carolkmail

      Hahaaaa! The one that makes the microphone screech? Luckily, I’m not their lucky parent 😛

      December 7, 2010 at 11:54 am

  4. 3CB

    🙂

    December 3, 2010 at 1:15 pm

    • carolkmail

      I knaw 😀

      December 7, 2010 at 11:54 am

  5. aww, cute! But did you really hate the kid stepmom? I wonder what her parents thought about her perfomance… 🙂

    December 8, 2010 at 11:28 pm

    • carolkmail

      She was too cute to hate! Besides, she delivered spectacular performance! If I was her mom, I would have been proud. I’m sure from the amount of pics she took, she too was proud 🙂

      December 9, 2010 at 5:57 am

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s