I never was much of a stage mother. On the other hand, I have been a stage mother for so long that I am particularly ho-hum about it nowadays. I am happy when Mouse is in a play because she loves it but I stay out of the way.

So, six weeks ago or so, I received a text message from the Prince of Denmark. It consisted of three photos of fabric. One was fabric for a 1920s men’s suit, the other two were a couple of fabric possibilities for an accompanying shirt. The question was which shirt fabric would be best. I was not sure how to answer the question. I said something like, “I like the more colorful one better but I think the other one would coordinate best with the suit fabric.” It turned out that was the right answer and after thinking to myself “1920s men’s suit?” a few times, I realized that Mouse was probably in another play.

Because I find that asking too many questions, bragging about their accomplishments, and trying to shove my personal opinions down my adult children’s throats is a recipe for a totally dysfunctional relationship, I refrained from asking things like “What play?” and “What role?” and even “Are you in a play?”. It was weeks later that I deduced from a rare facebook post that it was Hamlet and that her role was none other than Hamlet. Still, I kept quiet about it, although I began sneaking a few references to the Prince of Denmark into my conversations with her and sometimes others.

I can barely read a Shakespeare play in a book (my relationship with Shakespeare (or not) is waaaayyy too long for this post). Mouse, on the other hand, was maybe 13 when she got hold of The Commander’s complete works (I’m too tired to look up the exact book but I found it at the moomincabin when we were there last). I don’t know how many plays she read but she was immersed in it for much of that summer’s sojourn at the beach and I believe The Commander subsequently bought Mouse her own copy. I went to Wiki-pee for a little heads up on Hamlet. It wasn’t perfect but I got enough out of it to be able to follow the play even though I couldn’t always follow the words.

The version that Mouse performed in tonight had an all female cast (I learned that only a couple days ago), 1920s costuming, and was staged at the Carriage House Theatre down on Third Street here on the Garden Planet Ann Arbor. We had dinner downtown at the Griz before the show and were joined for both events by Lizard Breath and the Grand Poohbah, who is in town for one of those Been There Done That Duration things. (Hopefully the Poohbah will remember to turn off Horsey’s A/C before she shuts off his automotive vee-hickle.)

As a little bonus, Lizard Breath’s old girl scout leader was there (the play’s director is married to her daughter) and that sweet friend provided the remembrance that “all the other girls” wanted to be fashion designers when they grew up but Liz wanted to be a paleontologist. And yes, she did, and no, she is not, but she has an interesting career that relates to her theatre arts degree (yes, really) and is a responsible member of society and I am proud of her.

Oh, and I almost fergot! It turns out that Queen Gertrude lives catty-corner across the street from us!

Oh BTW, bravo to the Prince of Denmark and everyone else in the cast and crew!

And because Thor trump[ity-trump]s all, I hope the rumbly thunder I am hearing right now brings some rain because boy oh boy do we need it here!

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