The Tightrope with Children

My youngest daughter and I sat across from one another in a diner booth. Maybe it has more to do that her parents are divorced but meaningful conversations are rare between her and I. I often find myself staying away from mushy feelings and mentally shuffling for artistic expression that might hold her interest. In between, there is considerable silence.

“Allow me to tell you about this circus I had the pleasure of seeing.”

You mention the word circus to a kid and you think you have their interest peeked. I was losing her already. I needed to pull a rabbit out of a hat with her name on it. Her eyes left mine and returned to the picturesque choices on the children’s menu.

I explained, “This wasn’t your usual smelly circus sitting on a bench seat where your feet crunch under a bed of peanut shells. Hardly. This was a royal circus under the biggest big top you can imagine. They performed live operatic music to coincide with dance movement to tell a story. The music sounded hypnotically penetrating like a lullaby. Oh, and the acrobats showed incredible showmanship and precision. The execution of the dance choreography seemed incredible. I thought my eyes were deceiving me. I did not think human beings could train themselves to that level of expertise. The wardrobe saved no expense. There was so much to see because they performed on multiple levels of visual sights with spotlighting. The variety of skills shown was nothing like the traveling circuses that I remember. Improbable stunts were performed with smiling faces. Some of the performers were children!”

She had yet to blink an eye. I wondered if I my animated storytelling, my showmanship if you will, was turning her off again so I decided to wrap up the description by walking the tightrope of visitation.

“This circus was a visual feast. It is something that is hard to explain secondhand. You really must see it to believe it. So the next time this troupe comes around, I want to take you there. We can experience it together.”

She gave me a blank stare. “Are you talking about Cirque du Soleil?”

“Ah, you heard of it. Great.”

“I don’t want to go. Dad, I saw it with mommy three times.”

“You know, we really got to talk more.”