Notes ring in my ears as I leave the theater. Just one more week of this. I don’t even have to do any of the singing, it’s just watching these kiddos mess up over and over and over.

“Ms. Margret!!!!!!” somebody screeches behind me. I turn around sighing and my close escape. These kids are just energy energy all around, aren’t they?

“Yes, sweetly” I smile. Or try too.

“What wrong with your face?” the small child, Breanna, grimaces up from me. She’s not even really a small child, she’s 11.

I readjust my mouth and let the smile drop further confusing Breanna. “What do you need, honey?”

“You left your phone on stage,” she says and hands me what is indeed my phone.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” I reply having completely forgotten it. “Go back to the show, sweetie, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay!” the child practically skips out of the foyer.

Once she’s out of side I get back to my hobbling to my car, hopefully before the next contraction.