Charlotte buttoned up her winter coat, excited to see her first ever play in a real life theater. Her mother was busy in the bathroom touching up her makeup, Charlotte waiting patiently on the couch in the living room. Enthusiasm and anticipation ran through her veins, pumping her up with each passing second.
“So, you’re going to see the Nutcracker?” her sister, Ivy, asked, Charlotte nodding enthusiastically. “I remember the first time I went to see the Nutcracker. I’m not seeing it this year, though. I’ve seen it ever since I was eight, and I’m honestly kind of sick of it, so I’m skipping out this time.”
“But isn’t The Nutcracker a classic?” Charlotte asked, tilting her head. “Isn’t it an honor to see it?”
“I guess I just grew out of it,” Ivy shrugged, Charlotte understanding the loss of magic in something that used to be loved. Just last year she gave up her favorite stuffed bunny for a stuffed panda. “It must be nice to be old enough to go this year, huh?”
“Old enough?” Charlotte repeated, playing with a loose string on her dress. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean you’re not little anymore,” Ivy explained, which was an explanation that Charlotte had been dreading to hear. “You wouldn’t like a little kid to ruin the play, would you?”
Charlotte didn’t answer, she just sat there pondering her dilemma. Was she not a kid anymore? Did she no longer have a childhood? Her stomach churned; she wasn’t ready to give up being a kid, she liked being a kid! Now her excitement for The Nutcracker had vanished right along with Ivy’s now that she knew her childhood was at stake.
“Come on, Charlotte. Time to go,” Her mother called, grabbing her purse from the coffee table. “If we leave now, we can skip the traffic.”
Charlotte’s eyes darted between Ivy and her mother, trying to figure out how to delay long enough to miss the play. She knew she couldn’t fake being sick because her mother was good at spotting a liar no matter how good you were at acting.
“I…Uh…” Charlotte thought of what to say, still playing with the loose string on her dress. She then stood up and announced, “I have to go to the bathroom.”
Before her mother or Ivy could say anything, she bolted for the bathroom and shut the door right behind her. Instead of going to the bathroom, Charlotte paced back and forth, wondering what her next move would be.
“What am I going to do?” she pondered aloud to herself, her shoes clicking softly on the tiles. “I can’t grow up yet, I’m still a kid! At least I think I am…”
In the mirror, Charlotte saw a girl with a round face and a button nose, small and cute. She looked like a child, small and sweet, but was she still a kid at heart? She pondered this question as she paced, the fear growing bigger and stronger like an echo coming back to the person who called out in an empty cave.
“I must find a way to stop myself from seeing that play,” Charlotte determined, nodding to herself in the mirror. “I know! I could just stay in here until it’s too late to leave!”
Feeling like a genius, Charlotte plopped right onto the floor and waited for the time to pass by, which to someone as young her, felt like waiting for a decade to come and go. She needed a better plan.
“Charlotte, you’ve been in there for ten minutes!” Her mother scolded outside of the door, making Charlotte jump. “Are you alright? We’re going to miss the play!”
Good. Charlotte thought to herself, standing up and opening the door to meet a very angry mother.
“Come on, let’s get in the car,” her mother said, grabbing Charlotte’s hand. “We can still beat the traffic if we hurry.”
“Wait!” Charlotte exclaimed, trying to think of a proper excuse to delay this even further. “I’m hungry.”
“We can get something to eat at the theater,” her mother offered, pulling Charlotte away from the bathroom.
“But I’m hungry now,” Charlotte complained, her mother starting to grow rather irritated with her youngest daughter. “Please can I grab a little snack?”
“Ugh, fine,” her mother gave in, Charlotte walking as slowly as she could to the kitchen. “Hurry up!”
Charlotte did in fact not hurry up, she just crept to the kitchen and creaked open the cupboard very slowly. Ivy watched her childish stunt, confused by Charlotte’s sudden urge to delay their departure to the theater.
“Ivy, I can’t reach the chips,” Charlotte stated, Ivy bracing for what her sister was about to ask. “Can you grab them for me please?”
“Ugh,” Ivy stood up from the couch and grabbed the chips from the cupboard and handed them to Charlotte. “Here.”
“Thank you kindly,” Charlotte said, opening the bag and purposely spilling it all on the floor. “Whoops.”
“Charlotte, we don’t have time for this!” her mother yelled, turning to Ivy. “Please clean this up, we’re leaving.”
“But I’m still hungry!” Charlotte screamed, her mother picking her up and carrying her towards the front door.
“Bye, Ivy! We’ll be back in a few hours.” Her mother yelled as she slammed the door, leaving Ivy to clean up the chips on the floor. She groaned, not fond of picking up after her little sister, but did it anyway to please her mother.
Charlotte was carried to the car, the snow falling at an extremely slow pace, creating the winter wonderland that their little town had become. Luckily, Charlotte and her mother were both wearing warm winter coats to shield themselves from the elements.
“I’m hungry!” Charlotte yelled as her mother strapped her in.
“Too bad!” her mother said back, shutting the car door and opening the door to the driver’s seat. “We are going to that play, and you’re not going to delay us any further!”
“But I’m hungry!” Charlotte fought with the seatbelt and was embarrassingly losing. Her mother sighed, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway and onto the road. She had had enough with her daughter’s outbursts and was just ready to get to the theater.
Charlotte huffed, unsure of what to do now. Did she say she had to use the bathroom again? No, her mother wouldn’t fall for that again. What was she to do? They were approaching the theater on the other side of town and she was powerless to stop a hurricane that was her mother. Unless…
“Jingle bells, jingle bells,” she began to sing, her mother’s eye beginning to twitch. “Jingle all the way. Oh, what fun it is to ride-”
“Charlotte, I am not in the mood for a concert right now,” her mother warned, gripping the steering wheel. “You’ve been causing nothing but trouble, and I just need a moment of silence right now.”
“-in a one horse open sleigh,” Charlotte continued to sing, her mother now growing a throbbing vein on the side of her head. “Hey! Jingle bells, jingle bells. Jingle all the way, oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh.”
“Very good,” her mother strained, turning into a busy road, groaning at the traffic she could have avoided if they had left earlier. “Now can we please have some peace and quiet?”
“Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh,” Charlotte continued, her mother starting to grind her teeth. “Over the fields of snow, laughing all the way.”
“You switched up the verses,” her mother corrected, realizing that she just created a new problem for herself. “But you can sing it how you want, you really don’t need to start over.”
“Oh, my bad,” Charlotte said, having the complete intention to indeed start over. “Dashing through the snow in a one horse open-”
“Charlotte please be quiet!” Her mother yelled, Charlotte stopping almost immediately. “There is traffic because we didn’t leave on time, and we might not even make it on time.”
“Yes!” Charlotte celebrated aloud, realizing right away that she gave her plan away.
“Wait,” her mother said, turning her head to look back at her eight-year-old daughter. “You’ve been trying to delay us this whole time?”
Charlotte didn’t look at her mom, she just stared at her feet that were dangling from her seat.
“Why did you do that?” her mother asked, Charlotte quiet. The car didn’t move, the fastest thing in sight being the snow falling to the ground.
“I don’t want to grow up,” Charlotte said softly, her mother tilting her head in confusion.
“What does going to a play have to do with growing up?” her mother asked.
“Ivy said I was finally old enough to go and that I’m no longer a little kid,” Charlotte explained, her mother beginning to understand her daughter’s thought process. “So I thought if I wasn’t able to go to the show, I’d be a kid for longer.”
“Oh, honey,” her mother said softly, patting Charlotte on the knee. “Going to a play has nothing to do with growing up. Sure, you’re more mature than when you were younger, but you’re still a kid, enjoy it in every way you can.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Charlotte apologized, playing with the loose strand on her dress. “I guess I let what Ivy said get to my head.”
“That’s alright baby,” her mother said understandingly. “We all fear we’re growing up too fast, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the little things that make us feel like a kid.”
“I guess you’re right.” Charlotte turned to look out the window, the snow falling slowly outside. And as it did, she wished her life went by that slowly, millions of moments passing before reaching the ground. But life’s not like snow; Charlotte came to the conclusion rather quickly. She just decided to accept the fact that she was indeed old enough for The Nutcracker.
