Once a mother, always a mother...

Last night my daughter and I attended a fascinating ballet in Indy.  We shared our evening with another mother/daughter pair.  The four of us had dinner and then continued up to Clowes Hall on the Butler campus to watch Alonzo King's LINES Ballet in performance with the Shaolin Monks of China presenting: Long River, High Sky.  The link I just added is old...from 2007, but you'll get the gist of the show.  It was a blend of eastern meets western culture.  Martial arts and ballet, masterly blended as one.  Different, yet the same.  Mr. King shows the world how similar these two art forms are through his choreography.  Long River, High Sky defined the beautiful control the monks and dancers had over their bodies.  Precision, geometrics, grace, sensuality, power are just a few of the emotions all on stage conveyed.     

If you get a chance to see this show, GO!  

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Although what was happening on stage was quite captivating, I had another little show I witnessed before and then at intermission.  

When my oldest was born, my life certainly changed.  I added to my list of what I am the label of "mother".  As my children age, my husband is constantly reminding me that I am not just a mother.  I find it hard at times to remember that fact.  Before the performance last night I sat with my daughter, her friend and her friend's mother on my left.  On my right sat a college age boy and then a college age girl (read two 19-20 year olds here).  I like to read the program before the show; educate myself on the dancers history, or the story line.  What I noticed was that the female two seats away from me must have purchased the tickets she and her date occupied.  She was dressed up, he was not.  She was excited about the night, he kept making snide comments and texting others on his cell phone.  I also think she was in heat.  Her hands kept pawing at the gentleman between us while he sat (literally) on both of his!  This poor girl wasn't reading his body language very well.  I felt a sense of relief when the lights dimmed for act one.  

Then came intermission.  We all stayed in our seats.  All six of us...the three with me, me, college-boy and female-in-heat.  My daughter and her friend were busy chatting among themselves.  I tried to read my program, but the show next to me was making the mom in me find it hard to bite my tongue!  

I thought rationally it was not my place to speak, and then I though as a mom I needed to speak up!  I looked directly at the girl one space away from me and I spoke firmly and directly as I looked into her eyes, her hand planted solidly in place, "Can I tell you something?"  "Sure" "See that person on the other side of me?  That's my fourteen year old daughter and as a mother I would feel much better if someone would take their hand off of someone else's...certain area."  "OH! (hand quickly retreats)  I'm sorry!"  "No need to be sorry.  I don't mean to be a prude, and in the proper place you all would be fine.  This is just not the proper place."  

I am sure all of our cheeks were flushed after that conversation.  I definitely sensed the relief in the seat on my right as he closed his legs and kept his knees my way once the lights dimmed for act two.  

Later that night my daughter commented on the event..."I heard you mention me to that other couple."  

Yep.