Last night during dress rehearsal for the play, I tried on a pair of tights and was astonished at how difficult it was. You have to sit down and really work one leg into them at a time. I suppose it doesn’t help that I am over two-hundred pounds.

Also, it’s not obvious how one is supposed to get the crotch of the tights to meet the crotch of the wearer. I found deep knee bends and karate kicks to be the most effective strategies. Meanwhile, tugging the waist band and lifting the crotch are futile endeavors.

Wearing tights makes you feel warm. It’s either that or it’s the level of exertion required to get the tights on that heats you up.

The tights I am wearing are borrowed, which also makes me feel uncomfortable. Here I am describing a feeling that goes beyond a saggy crotch and warm legs. I feel as if I am borrowing skivvies or using an old toothbrush. Should I spray these tights with some sort of antibacterial before I put them on?

The hardest part of acting is learning not to giggle.

The best part about acting is forgetting your cue and then glancing over at your nine-year old daughter who is raising one eyebrow and waiting patiently for you to deliver your line. Kennedy has actually memorized all of her lines, my lines, and Aaron’s lines, too.

After prayers last night I told her that she was my favorite actress and that I wouldn’t even consider another acting project unless she were in it. We have one more week to go before our performance next weekend. Rehearsals are grueling, but necessary.

I can’t wait until I have free time again.

I am participating in a local Youth Theater production with my nine year old twins. I have never tried to act before, but Kennedy, who has been in three different productions so far and is really coming into her own as an actress, roped me into this.

I couldn’t deny her.

We’re doing the Three Musketeers. There are some very good teenage actors as well as a bunch of children (age 7-10) and a few adults. The play itself is not very much like what Dumas wrote, but it’s filled with intrigue, sword fights, and the occasional damsel in distress.

One interesting thing about this setup is that, on stage, I am on equal footing with my kids. The director is the boss. This is kind of cool if my kids are goofing off because I can just ignore them and let the director be the heavy. If, on the other hand, I’m the one goofing off, then it’s just kind of pathetic. The other thing that’s interesting has to do with relating to teenagers. It’s hard to describe, but I realize I haven’t had much to do with teenagers since I was one.

For example, after work the other day I rushed to the theater and arrived a little late. One of my scenes had already started. Feeling somewhat self-conscious, I raced over to a group of seven- and eight-year olds, and said my line: “We’re so happy to see you!”

But it came out sort of tremulous and the director paused the rehearsal.

One of the Musketeers, a good looking boy, maybe 13 or 14 years old, was the first to speak. “Creepy,” he said. “You said that like Michael Jackson.”

I wasn’t sure if I should scold him or defend myself for being late. Finally I just laughed: He was right. It was a creepy delivery and could have only been improved by wringing my hands and panting.

Skewered by a 14 year old!

But it was satisfying to laugh with him and the rest of the cast. I felt like I was part of the group. When I was a teenager, I rarely felt that way. It’s too bad we didn’t have a drama club in my high school, but I’m glad my kids get to have this experience.