So, tomorrow’s the big day. I’m getting ready to head north
and hunker down with the fam for the weekend, so I probably won’t be back
around here until Monday.
Thanksgiving is one of my absolute favorite holidays. I
mean, the food alone makes it worth a couple minutes of happy dance. But the
one tradition that really makes the day feel right is watching the parade.
When I was a little kid, my parents would wake us all up to
ensure that we were in front of the TV at nine. I would keep track of all the
Broadway plays I wanted to put on my list of things to see as I danced along to
the chosen songs of that year. My brother, sister and I would talk about how
cool it would be to help hold one of the balloons. (And how it would be even
cooler to let one go.)
Then, of course, there were the Rockettes. I was absolutely
convinced that I was going to join that kick line one day (that was before I
stopped growing in the seventh grade). I would watch them closely, try to mimic
the moves. And then it occurred to me one year…maybe I wasn’t the only one with
such dreams. Perhaps my dolls had been waiting for the opportunity as well.
I decided to let Dorothy (Wizard of Oz) go first. She did great, keeping time with the ladies
on the screen. So, I thought, You know
what? I bet you can kick even higher than them.
It was an understandable assumption. I had great faith in
that Dorothy doll. But maybe a little bit misplaced.
I ripped her leg right off.
Believe me, no one was more shocked and horrified by this
unfortunate accident than I. Well, I doubt poor Dorothy was thrilled.
I ran to my parents, doll and leg in hand. They did everything
they could, but sadly the injury was just too great. She was a real trooper
about it, though. Spending the following years awkwardly leaning against the
Scarecrow on my dresser, basket and Toto still in hand. And she’s still around,
resting comfortably in storage. Next to her leg. Which I saved in case there
were ever any advances in doll leg reattachment.
The moral of this ridiculous story is not: Don’t play Rockettes with your dolls.
Of course that’s not it. That would be a horrible moral. You
should totally play Rockettes with your dolls. Maybe you shouldn’t try to outdo
the Rockettes with your dolls. Hubris is always a problem.
No, this is about what I’m thankful for. It’s been over
fifteen years since that fateful Thanksgiving of Dorothy’s tragic Rockette
amputation and not surprisingly my life is a little different now than it was
then (not in terms of wanting to be a Rockette. That never fades). But, regardless of everything else that's different, tomorrow
morning at nine I will be sitting in front of the TV with siblings who would still
absolutely get on board with releasing balloons into the great unknown, parents
who I can still turn to when I accidently rip the legs off of other areas of my
life, and the knowledge that despite what happened, Dorothy never stopped
smiling.
What are you thankful for this year?
Also, if you’re trying to decide on what to wish for over
the wishbone this year, my sister and I always favored this
one.
I am going to see the Rockettes for the first time ever on Saturday! Super excited. Maybe I will be inspired to make Oreo Barbie be a Rockette, but more gently than your childhood self ;). Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
ReplyDeleteYou too! And definitely play the Rockette game. It never gets old. =)
DeleteDolls are ever so faith to us. Even when they are put through such things they always smile and remain our friends. I don't think too many real life friends would endure a friendship after we ripped their legs off.
ReplyDeleteHappy late Thanksgiving to you! I hope it was fun, and I hope someday you get to let a balloon go.
I know! So few of my real life friends react well to accidental amputations. It's a shame.
DeleteHope your Thanksgiving was wonderful as well! And I'll let you know how my balloon aspirations turn out.