I am madly in love with 'Father Time'

Seriously.
Reference back, to "How do I sleep at night", you will remember The Kid having a terrible tantrum, resulting in good ol Catholic punishment.
The cause, for said tantrum, was being assigned one of two main parts in the school Christmas program. (the other huge role, going to his friend, who had a solo...our son, cannot carry a note!)
The Kid was set to play Father Time, the narrator. He had to speak 4 separate times, open and close the play with humour, expression, pause for laughter and a three paragraph opening monologue.
The Kid can be a little shy. It is not obvious, he appears VERY friendly and outgoing. Yet, before events, there is a shy boy hidden in there. A trait, I very much shared as a child. Ten times over.
We have been practicing, though not easily. Each session ended with a loss of temper, as the fear would creep in.
I made him a tiny cheat sheet, nearly as small as his hand. (I do not condone cheat sheets, but if you saw HOW MANY BLEEPIN words he had to memorize...you would too, mothers).
We practiced working the crowd. Being an accomplished Toastmaster, (pause for giggles at my lameness) I tried to teach him every trick. Thirty minutes before leaving, he nearly had it but was still sneaking peeks at the cheat sheet.
After arriving, Coach was becoming a mess. You know how some people would rather die than speak in public? Coach is that man. I was pretty calm. Confident, in The Kid and the cheat sheet.
The Principle opened, quiet sign raised (eyeroll) and at least 300 people prepared for my boy to walk out.
He stood up, smiled (handsome in his gleaming-brand-new-white shoes Dad unwrapped for the occasion), turned back, PUT HIS CHEAT SHEET DOWN WITH SCARY CONFIDENCE AND WALKED ACROSS THE STAGE LIKE A BIG MAN.

He left the sheet!!
Oh bleep!
He is so full of himself, he left the sheet!!

I nearly fainted. Black washed over me.
Then, Mr. Somebody, began to speak.
The Kid, NAILED it. Every single word. Every pause, every hand movement, every pitch change for sarcasm and rhyme.
I began to sob. I could barely see him, through the tears.

Please note: I rarely cry. Movies, TV, real life...nothing. My son's accomplishments...like a waterfall.

I can proudly say, he inherited the speaking abilities from his mother. I'm sure, his other grand standing events, will be credited to the men in his life.
I am riding the high. I have no idea, how his little 8 year old body did not crumble in front of the crowd....but I could not be more proud.

No drama club jokes today. He wasn't acting...he was giving a speech. Let's pretend, it will come in handy when The Kid accepts his draft day jersey.

I gushed over The Kid all night.
Tink kept calling him a 'Moobie Star'.
At bedtime, I reminded him how ridiculous those tantrums seem now.
Always a life lesson to be taught, in this house!