When I was three I saw my very first play and decided I wanted to be an actor. Since three-year-olds can’t really do Shakespeare, my mother decided to put me in dance lessons. My sister was already taking lessons, and I would stand outside her class trying to copy what the big girls, and by big I mean six-year-olds, did every day. Finally, when I was four I was allowed to be in a class!
I did ballet and tap. I was a serious dancer! Well, really I think I did like twenty minutes of tap and twenty minutes of ballet that consisted of walking in a circle carrying fairy wands, but it was the big time to me!
Finally, the day came for my very first dance recital. I was going to be a bunny. Looking back, the costumes looked oddly like old school playboy bunny costumes. But whatever, I loved it. My father was in charge of putting my costume together. He even went one step above all the other parents who just glued headbands to the rabbit ears. He seam ripped open the ears, threaded the head band through, and resewed the ears just so mine would look perfect.
The day of the recital came, and I was ready to be a star. No looking off into the wings so the dance teacher could feed me the steps. I knew that bunny dance cold. I got out there and took my place in line. And my ears fell off. I stopped mid shuffle-step, picked them up, and put them back on. But they fell off again. I crammed those bunny ears back on my head, but once more they ended up on the floor during my famous march in place section.
I had had enough. I picked up those bunny ears one last time and held them onto my head for the rest of my premier performance. Apparently, the head band was meant to be on the outside of the ears for a reason, so the little teeth on the head band would actually hold the ears on. Thanks for trying, Dad. And so began my career on stage and a long history of wardrobe malfunctions, some of which you can read here: