Karma Police

There's nothing else quite like a middle school orchestra concert to convince you that you clearly did something very, very bad in a past life.

Tonight's was a doozy, because it was the last concert of the year, and the teacher divided her class up into around twenty small ensembles who performed about a five-minute piece each; and you had to stay through the whole thing because she was giving out awards at the end. Mercifully, Anna lost consciousness around the fourth piece on the program. I should have been so lucky.

Katie came back to sit with us in tears after her performance because she had flubbed the cello line and the group had to start the piece over. I tried telling her that really, when it comes to middle school string players, they don't sound any worse messing up than they do playing correctly; but this didn't seem to comfort her very much. She did perk up a little when I pointed out my ex-husband's insufferable sister-in-law sitting two rows ahead of us, apparently reading a beauty magazine. "I don't think it's helping," I whispered to Katie, who giggled.

The awards were almost worse. Who would have thought a middle school orchestra could have so many, many members?! Several of them got multiple certificates. Every time I thought the teacher was done, she'd reach behind her and pick up another thick stack of certificates from the stage. I glanced at the elderly couple sitting in front of me and wondered if they had been young when we arrived.

We're home now, and Katie is feeling better; and Anna is awake, not that she seems very happy about it. I can hardly blame her. Whatever it was that I did... I'm so sorry...