Funky Gibbons

So, ballet concert night. One that could put my lot to shame, mind you. Admittedly the focus of the school is on stagecraft; and if that was what I was after this place would have my hands-down vote. They make a promise that your child "WILL be in the next full stage production", and by God, if someone has to suit the brat up in a full-body fur cover and kick them onto the stage to skid into position, so your kid WILL be in the next production.
OK, I exaggerate. But not by a lot.
Anyway; all very spectacular and full of showmanship, and my Beloved Daughter's friend should be proud of herself; she has clearly put in a lot of hard work and performed brilliantly. The Riverdance sequence was amazing, truly amazing; and the one en-pointe dance was spectacularly professional; I actually got to my feet to applaud that girl. Which is more than I did during the Funky Gibbon.
I. Do. Not. Pay. To. Attend. Ballet. Concerts. Where. I. Am. Expected. To. Stand. Up. And. Do. The. Funky. Gibbon. Especially to cover a major backstage scenery shift. Imagine the audience being told to hop up and do the hokey-pokey while the stagehands shift the castle so Odette can perch on a windowsill and watch Odile do thirty-two fouettes, I do not bloody think so.
Okay, technically I did not pay to attend this ballet concert. Beloved Daughters' friends' parents did (have I lost any orphan apostrophes there?) in much the same way as we buy tickets for them for Shani's ballet school concerts (please God not an empty auditorium) but the principle remains. Either way, I found myself sitting next to the Glowering Russian Mother, who is (happily) no longer glowering. This may have to do with New Man at her side. I'm happy for her. Russian Mum is Russian, and also in computers. She Mums one of Beloved Daughters' former classmates, a breathtakingly good swimmer, allowed to squeeze in a little dancing when swimming does not require her. I have never seen her do anything but glower, whether at school functions or her daughters' incredibly elaborate and expensive 11th birthday party. Tonight she was happy, communicative; even gave a pleasant little finger-wave to Eugene (estranged father of swimmer daughter) and that's the chummiest I've seen them. She's still pretty forthright (when adorable baby Dumbo appeared she asked loudly, "Is rat or elephant?" ) .
They're thinking of going to Dubai. Because she can't get the pay increase she needs here.
Damn, I thought I was drastic.