Academy worthy performances at Chez Nichols
All the world’s a stage, and the people in it merely players,
but no part of the world so much as the home you live in.
There are daily dramas at our house, with every emotion that can
be expressed coming forth in the most ordinary situations, from
rage to fear to love, sometimes all within a matter of seconds.
Academy worthy performances at Chez Nichols
All the world’s a stage, and the people in it merely players, but no part of the world so much as the home you live in.
There are daily dramas at our house, with every emotion that can be expressed coming forth in the most ordinary situations, from rage to fear to love, sometimes all within a matter of seconds.
The recent hoopla over the year’s best films has nothing on the comedy and tragedy that happens within these walls.
That’s why I modestly propose that every family should host its very own version of the Oscars, because the acting that goes on at one’s home rivals anything you’ll see on the silver screen.
Take my own family. Please.
If they were giving out Oscars to this bunch, we’d have a shelf full of them.
Take, for instance, the performance required in just getting up in the morning. Before my eldest went off to college, I used to get it in stereo.
“I don’t want to go to school today,” they’d moan, pulling the covers up over their heads. “Do I have to go? I think I feel sick. And nothing important is happening today. If I don’t go, it doesn’t matter. I won’t miss anything.”
Then they ask me to take their temperature, since they feel a little warm. Just as I enter with the thermometer, they clutch their stomachs for dramatic impact and groan, “I think I might have to throw up.”
Pretty convincing, isn’t it?
Or then there’s the special effects involved in pretending you have taken a shower when you really haven’t, something that my sons do admirably.
Three extra layers of deodorant are applied, plus a little water slicking back the hair. To anyone not in the business, it looks pretty authentic.
Let’s not forget the Special Achievement award for Creative Whining, either.
The much-coveted prize this year must go to the child who declared that he could not walk the dog to the mailbox and back because he was exhausted, simply exhausted, from working so hard at school that day.
All he can do is flop into a chair with barely enough strength to pick up the remote control. Call it “Close Encounters of the Tired Kind.”
The other son comes in a close second for his comic performance in “Mom, I Just Remembered I Have Homework, and It’s Time to Go To Bed.”
Of course, you might just as well nominate “What Happened to My Backpack?” and “Who Hid the Remote Control?” but I think the homework piece shows his greatest range.
The family Oscars are not restricted to humans, either. This year, there is fierce competition between the cats’ ensemble piece, “The Dog is Chasing Us,” and the dog’s solo masterpiece, “Get Those Darn Cats!” Of course, the dog could also get the nod for his work in “Please Feed Me, I’m Cute.” Such a standout year for the animals.
I modestly nominate myself for Best Martyr, due to an outstanding body of work that includes “I Do Everything for You and What Thanks Do I Get?” and
“Don’t Bother, I’ll Do It Myself.”
We’ll be rolling out the red carpet sometime soon for Family Oscar Night at Chez Nichols, but black-tie attire is optional. Very, very optional. Although I might have to put on my tiara for the occasion. I think it will go with the velour sweatpants, don’t you?
