I gingerly put my Mickey Mouse, the one that came all the way from Disney World, in my Strawberry Shortcake backpack and grabbed my Pac-Man lunchbox. I was very excited because it was the day of my first show and tell. There was no question that I was going to take Mickey Mouse. He was my most prized possession.
I had practiced the tell part in the mirror with Gran’s pink Goody’s brush. I assumed that there would be a microphone for a Kindergarten show and tell and I most certainly didn’t want it to turn out like my last stint in front of a mic. That time had not gone so well. It happened on our last day at Disney World when we were watching a live show of some sort. I had been mesmerized by the singing, dancing animals but when the sequined tuxedoed announcer called for volunteers I snapped out of my trance and jumped up and down, waving my hands in hopes of being called up for whatever kind of revelry those magical masterminds had in store.
And, much to my delight I was called. I bounded up the side steps and took my place amongst the throngs of other sugared up and sunburned kids. Gran put her pinkies up to her tongue and whistled. I could hear it over all the other cheering. I spotted my family, cocked my Mickey Mouse ears to the side and smiled for the pictures Mom and Gran were taking. The announcer walked around and asked participants random questions: what was their favorite Magic Kingdom ride? Who was their favorite Disney character? Were they having a good time? I tingled in anticipation of being called on and rehearsed all my answers in my head. I was beginning to lose hope that he was going to pick me as it seemed that this particular skit was over and all I was going to get to do was stand on a stage in the sweltering heat. Suddenly, his silver sequins were glinting directly into my eyes. He bent down and said, “So, pretty girl, where are you from?”
Alarm. Panic. This was a new question. I hadn’t rehearsed. I told myself to be cool. I knew where I was from. I loved where I was from. I was from Welch, West Virginia.
So, I cleared my throat, took a step forward and triumphantly and proudly announced that I was from Welch, West Virginia. However, I didn’t say Virginia. No, I said, I was from Welch, West Virgin-eeee! And, then I hiccuped.
Everyone cracked up, even the plastic-haired emcee. I pivoted and ran off the stage. It felt like I was running through quick sand as sweaty tourists pointed and laughed at me. By the time I reached Mom’s arms I was balling and my hiccuping had increased to a violent and rapid pace.
However, as embarrassing as that moment was, I still longed for the white hot light of stardom. Therefore, I took my embarrassment in stride and was determined that the next time I got a chance in front of a mic, I would be ready. I would be polished.
Show and tell was going to be my moment to shine. I was particularly interested in shining in front of my new best friend, the quiet and beautiful, Tony Lewis. Tony and I had met on the first day of Kindergarten at Welch Elementary School. I had accidentally knocked the blocks he was playing with over. When I did this I started apologizing and talking incessantly as, as was and is my habit.
His eyes flashed with anger for the briefest moment but then he shyly smiled and started chewing on the wet and tattered collar of his Members Only jacket. I plopped down on my knees and started helping him stack his blocks back up.
“Hi! I’m Sosha Michelle Yokosuk. I’m five years old, I can count to 100 and I can read! Do you want to play?”
“Uhh. Sure..”
From that moment, we were inseparable – in school and out. And, on the day of our first show and tell, my new best friend was coming to our apartment for the first time. Therefore, it was paramount that I nailed both the show and the tell portion so that Tony would be awed about being in the home of a worldly polished professionals who had already been to Disney World.
This article was written by a guest blogger. The opinions expressed here are those of the writer and do not reflect the opinions of Bob Lacey, Sheri Lynch or the Bob & Sheri show.
Soshally Awkward
Sosha Lewis is a writer whose work has been featured in The Washington Post, Huffington Post, MUTHA Magazine and The Charlotte Observer. She writes about her sometimes wild, sometimes hilarious, sometimes heartbreaking past filled with free-lunches, a grimy sports bar, a six foot tall Albino woman who tried to save her teenage soul, felonious, drug addicted parents, an imaginary friend named Blueberry and growing up nestled in the coal-dusted mountains of West Virginia.
