Right now I’m working in a children’s theatre production of A Velveteen Rabbit Christmas. It’s a sweet little show that glosses over the traditional Velveteen Rabbit tradition of painful death by burning for living toys. Because you know, Christmas and Joy and such.
After each performance, we do a little Q&A with the kids. It’s usually things like “Where do you get the costumes?” “How long did it take you to learn the show?” “I like purple!”
In our show there is a character called the Skin Horse. Please feel free to giggle about that. He sings a touching ballad about toys becoming real, and then we never see him again. Mostly because the actor has to play other characters.
Well, during Q&A this week a little girl asked what happened to the Skin Horse. The actor who played the skin horse replied, “Well the Skin Horse got put on the wood pile with the other toys and burned alive.”
Not really in the Christmas version.
But it didn’t matter. The children were horrified, and I lost my crown for worst kids show answer ever. (I’ll tell you about that in another blog.)
Sometimes it’s nice to lose the crown.
If you’re looking for a Christmas story that doesn’t involve burning things alive, please check out my Christmas novella Nuttycracker Sweet! There is taxidermy, but no burning deaths. So that’s something!