the School Play
Age : 6
They're all sitting at the dinner table when he accidentally lets it slip.
"So how was school today?" Rachel asked, as every parent does.
"Well, Miss Olsen started teaching us big addition, like with all the lines and stuff,' he paused to eat a bite of chicken. "She also put up a list of play par-"
There was a clatter of a fork and a long squeal. As soon as he realized what he did wrong, he looked at his dad, panic written all over his face. Noah smirked and shrugged his shoulders. The message couldn't have been clearer. It was his problem now.
"Gabe! Oh I am so proud of you! What play is it? When are auditions? Are there any singing roles? Oh my baby boy is all grown up!"
"But, Mom, I'm no-"
"Gabriel Puckerman," she interrupted, intimidating glare and all. "You'd better not finish that sentence how I think you're going to."
"Well, uh," he looked around, everywhere but his mom.
"It's just a Thanksgiving play, you know, the Pilgrims and Indians and the whole Thanksgiving feast and stuff so yeah, no singing. So will you please, please not make me do it?"
Rachel sighed.
"But sweetie, this would be a perfect debut opportunity. You know, my first play was when I was your age too and I loved it."
"No no no no no no no, please. Mom, I really really don't want to do this please just don't make me do it."
Suddenly, Noah cleared his throat.
"Rach, can we talk for a second?"
"Yeah. Gabe. This discussion isn't over," she says as she stands up and follows her husband into the kitchen.
"Rachel. Look at him." He says, pointing towards the dining room, leaning on the counter.
She steps out quietly and the sight is a little heart-breaking. Gabe's sitting there, looking down at his chicken, stabbing it with a fork. She ducks back in and tries to hold her ground.
"But this is something I really want him to do. It'll be a good introduction."
"He isn't a mini you. He's his own person who can make his own decisions."
"But he's our son. He should have some spotlight, just like us."
"Rach, if you force him, he'll never want to do it again. Let him want to do it, okay?"
There's a long pause before she caves in.
"Okay, okay. He doesn't have to participate in the school play."
She walks out and sat back in her chair, Noah following suit. Gabe is all tense, expecting the worst, and that's what makes her next words easier.
"Sweetie," she starts, her tone tender. He looks up, hopeful.
"You don't have to do it, if you don't want to."
It's like all the tension was lifted out of the room.
"Thank you thank you thank you!" he laughs as he runs up to hug her.
She hugs him back and pats his hair a little.
"Thank your dad," is all she says.
He wiggled out and gave his dad a hug and then whispered in his ear, a very quiet thank you. Noah smiled before whispering an equally quiet, you're welcome back.