. . . they just learn to gesticulate.
I am not the most cultured person on the planet, so a trip to the ballet was always going to be an eye-opener.
We knew enough to don our Sunday best (even though it was a Tuesday) and off we went – two ballet-mad girls and their mum.
Turns out, we had front row seats. Excellent, I thought. The kids will have a great view.
The lights dimmed and the music began.
Now, I’m not sure what I expected at this point. Words, probably. Perhaps a narrator. (Yes, this is how worldly I am). Instead we spent the next five minutes watching a rather gaunt man gesticulating his way around the stage.
I’m sure it was meaningful. It may even have been poignant. Unfortunately, I was so busy suppressing the giggle that came from nowhere, that the significance of the moment was lost.
Eventually, he was joined on stage by actual dancing dancers. But I was in no fit state to simply sit back and enjoy. I bit the inside of my cheek. I hid my face behind my hands. I tried to point out something interesting for the sake of the ballet-mad girls sitting beside me.
Unfortunately, a small scale guffaw managed to escape from my lips.
I would like to think that no-one heard or saw a thing. Unfortunately, we were in the front row. So, the entire cast of Don Quixote was my audience.
I can only apologise.
I assure you, the ballet was memorable. It was entertaining. I’m just not sure that I’m any more cultured for the experience.