What to do after propping up terrified wife and mother through, not one, but two little public speaking engagements for which she is completely unqualified and unsuited but which she must perform as if suited and qualified and with a modicum of dignity and a smidgeon of passion? Why, go home and build a sidewalk chalk-decorated snowman to go along with their pasty-faced straw (wo)man. What else?
And in all seriousness, I had to speak at two services this morning about what we volunteers and tutors do at a city school and why. I was terrified. Mostly because I’m not clever enough to diminish people by imagining them in their underwear. And also because I’m impassioned enough about what I/we do to become a snotty-nosed mess in front of people whilst talking about it. It was touch and go, but it’s done, thank heaven. May I not have to do it again for a good long while! Although… if it brings in more Spanish-speaking tutors (may have snagged one out of the five volunteers) I’ll do it again in my underwear!
Ok, never mind. That might be bad for business.