You know the whole, “I’ll just run away and join the circus” threat? Well, my kids have never used that one on me. I guess it’s because I went ahead and signed them up myself. This picture pretty much captures how some of them felt about it. I think I learned this technique from my own Gypsy Thug Mom. I threatened to run away once and she went to get me a suitcase.
We have always been frequent library customers. When we move someplace new, the first thing we do is secure a library card, join whatever reading program is going on (cuz prizes) and find out when the storytimes, free movies and kid party-type things were going to happen. We were there for pretty much every event. My kids were always the ones dressed in some combo of jammies, superhero costumes and cowboy boots. I usually didn’t notice until they were seated next to the kids with real pants and clean shirts on. Even so, at least mine were easy to spot.
It was just a normal weekly storytime when I found out about the circus. The librarian chose books about the circus to read to the kids and had fun circus-y popcorn for a snack. She said she had a special announcement for the end of storytime. Before she dismissed the kids, she asked them if they wanted to be in the circus. My two bigger kids were wandering around picking out books but my little two shot their hands up along with every other kid at storytime. The librarian went on to explain that the circus was coming to town in a couple of weeks and that if you wanted a free ticket to the circus, all you had to do was come to storytime dressed up like a circus clown next week and you would get one. Or, at least, that’s what I THOUGHT she said.
Let me stop you right there if you were getting ready to post a comment about how unethical circuses are. I know. I was just too busy raising human beings in those days to dive into social justice matters of any sort and I never gave a thought to whether elephants liked it or not. If you have ever paid full-price for a ticket to the circus you know that the opportunity to take every single one of your kids for free is nothing to scoff at. I was going to do whatever it took to make this happen for my kids, unhappy elephants and all.
I excitedly explained the situation to my kids. I told them that next week we were going to dress them up like circus clowns for library story time and that if we did that we would get free tickets to the circus. Russell heartily protested. He was at an age where this was definitely not going to be cool. I overrode him and announced that this is what was going to happen, no matter what.
The following storytime day we set to work on clowning all four of them. You can see the results above. You can also see how not-happy one of them was about this. I loaded up all of the clowns while the eldest doth protest. When we pulled up to the library Russell saw a girl he knew coming out. He sunk down into his seat and said, “Mama, I am not going in there until anyone I know is gone.” I “whatevered” him and told him that he was going to have to break free from his humiliation and come inside so we could get his free ticket. When we walked in for storytime, the librarian saw us and made SUCH a big deal! She ooo’d and ahhhh’d and said she was so impressed with how they had “gotten in the spirit of things.” Everybody was seated (Russell was hiding in Historical Fiction) when I realized that my kids were the only ones dressed up as clowns, out of about 25 kids. I thought to myself, “Hahaaaaa suckahhhhs, yer not getting any free circus tickets in those clothes!” We sat through more circus stories, had another circus-y snack and then the librarian told everybody to come line up for their free circus tickets. This would be my moment of mom victory. This would be the one time that I got it right and the other moms didn’t. Their poor little casually-dressed non-clowned kids were going to have to pay to go to the circus, while my little clown babies were going to march up there and snatch up their FREE tickets. That’s not what happened. All the moms marched their kids up to the line, clown or not, and every single kid received a ticket. I was so confused to see all the slackers getting the same treatment as me. By the time I rounded up Russell from the far reaches of the library and got in line to get our tickets, I was a little miffed.
“You all look so fantastic today!” she gushed. “You really got into it!” Politely indignant, I said, “Isn’t it only the kids who came dressed as clowns who get a free ticket? Isn’t that what you said last week?” “Oh no dear,” she replied. “I said that if you come to storytime this week all of the children would get a free ticket. I also said that anyone who wants to march in the circus parade on the day of the circus can dress up as a clown and march right in with the performers!”
Uh-oh. I felt a ten-year old unwilling clown glaring holes in my back. How had I managed to get this so very wrong and yet be so utterly convinced that I was, for once, the only one who got it right? My gypsy thug mom ears had not paid good enough attention a week ago. The one time I actually put thought into what my kids would wear to library storytime had backfired on me bigtime. My kids don’t normally look like the other kids in the room but this time, they didn’t look like any other kids at any story time in the entire universe. I think Russell is still mad at me.
On the day of the circus the only kid who wanted to dress up like a clown was the youngest, Sam. He was delighted to do it all again and march in with the acrobats and poorly-treated elephants. We had enough money for the kids to have cotton candy because we had not paid for tickets, so free circus tickets are totally worth it. Maybe not worth the whole humiliate your ten-year old boy at a critical point in his development-as-a-man-thing, but worth coming to storytime, for sure.
And in the long-term, I have done it. I have cured a couple of kids of every wanting to run away and join the circus.
