3 Piggy Opera

Monday evening, I was going through Bob's school bag (and the 9 million pieces of paper the school district insists on sending home even though very few students live in homes without Internet access) when I came across the event calendar for February. I was checking for any news on a talent show (it appears this may be the first year without one) when I noticed an entry for Thursday 2/4 - "2nd Grade Performance - 3 Piggy Opera - 6:30pm."

Say what?

"Bob, is this '3 Piggy Opera' something you're supposed to go to school for?"

(Incoherent mumbling)

Mm-hmm. "I'll email your teacher tomorrow to find out for sure."

Sure enough, a notice had been sent home some time ago, but Bob's mysteriously never made it to our house. The second notice, stapled to his planner by his teacher, came home on Tuesday. Indeed, the 2nd Graders were to be at the school by 6:15 on Thursday to present their program, which they've apparently been working on for the past six weeks.

Bob seemed entirely not thrilled. References to the "stupid pig opera" were made, but no reason for this disdain were offered. Finally, Thursday morning, he admitted to Ben he was "a little nervous."

At first it seemed ludicrous. Bob has always been an extrovert and never known a stranger. Bob has never passed up an opportunity to act ridiculous for a laugh. Bob was in the talent show last year, for pete's sake.

That said, Bob's extrovert behavior seemed to take place during his manic periods, and over the past year, he's been increasingly self-conscious around people he doesn't know. And even though he was in the talent show, I was on stage with him, and even then, he seemed to freeze up more than I'd expected.

We went out for pizza prior to the show, and he was happy and chatty and ate like, well, a pig. When we got to school, he advised me I was to go find a seat while he went to his classroom. I watched him walk down the hall, confident, without any obvious apprehension.

Then I watched as he filed onto the stage with the rest of his class. His eyes scanned the room, and then he seemed to physically shrink a good three inches. Maybe four.

Holy crap--my kid has stage fright.

Still, he made it through, and he certainly wasn't the only kid who looked like he'd rather be at the dentist. Afterward, he was almost giddy with relief at having the whole business behind him. On the way home, he told me the reason he doesn't like to smile on stage is because "I feel stupid."

Today, I got the results from his gifted program testing in the mail. He tested in the 98th to 99th percentile in all but one area, where he tested average. The notice stated the tester felt his actual result would have been higher but he was hampered by either anxiety or just a simple lack of knowledge because of his age. But the part that really threw me--his math scores place him at the 3rd grade, 7th month level. A full year and then some ahead of where he actually is.

If he didn't look just like me, I'd swear he was an alien.