Trivial Pursuits: All the world's a stage

My daughter was bit by the drama bug in the womb.

By the time she could toddle, Greta was on stage. If it got a laugh or a round of applause, she’d do it again. And again. A favorite was the butt slam – throwing her legs out from under her and landing on her behind. She’d do it until the cows came home, and once I got over my fear that she may be injuring her posterior, the butt slam never failed to entertain. 

We called her our little clown. When she was 2, Greta could already do voices and accents better than me. Before long, our living room was a theater, the couch was the stage, we were the audience and Greta was the star. 

She sings constantly, and these are the rare moments in which my seriously silly kiddo is actually serious. She’s the consummate performer: the epitome of the hey-mom-watch-this. 

By the time she was 5, Greta had her career mapped out. She’d be a dentist on Tuesdays and Thursdays and a rock star on weekends. Now 8 years old, my little drama queen has yet to land any plum starring roles in class productions, though she did appear on a few local channels this summer in a PSA for the Sioux Falls School District on the importance of student attendance. She had a blast. 

All the world is her stage, literally – pretty much anything she can stand on – and nothing is embarrassing. For instance, when I found out she rode her bike down the street wearing this giant panda mask that we have in an attempt to get people interested in the painted rocks and paper thingies she and her cousin were selling in our yard, I didn’t blink. I also don’t know anyone else who would’ve done it. Greta is also big on tall tales – no surprise there – and claims she invented Harry Potter on her iPad (whatever that means). 

Her repertoire continues to grow, and while the drama is, on occasion, more than I think I can take, I wouldn’t trade it, or my awesomely silly drama queen, for anything in the world, ever.