Elma Fuddly

Christmas was unpredictable. I guess that was a blessing, stepping out of the comfort zone, blah blah blah. I played for the entire Christmas program at church—what a heart-stopping time. The stress was practically dripping off my fingers. Gotta love adrenaline but when I can’t use it immediately, it pools in my muscles and starts to ache. I can’t decide whether my favorite part was the middle of the first piece( where I forgot what key the song was in), the time I dashed up front to sing with Grandma because she was having trouble with the song (and I do. not. sing. in. public), or the last of it, when I thought I was done and sat down only to discover, as the entire church is looking at me, that I’m supposed to accompany while the guys sing “We Three Kings.” By that point, though, it was jolly, since so many other things had gone wrong, and been switched around, that I was feeling rather cheerful--it couldn't get any worse. It helped that the boys were all dressed in fluffy blue bathrobes and Elmer Fudd hats, though. I dearly hope somebody got a picture. Ms. Linda shouldn’t have told them to use their own discretion when picking out wise man outfits.