Is It Time Yet?

Two weeks ago we were watching a baseball game together when a commercial came on for Assembly Hall. For those of you not in the know, that’s the arena where UIUC’s once-famed (and still pretty good) basketball team tosses an orange ball into a net.

The commercial was not for an upcoming game – it was for Ringling Bros. Circus.

Not more than a few days prior, Mr. C mentioned how much The Poo would love the circus. She’s fascinated by animals, and we don’t have any, as we all have allergies and we travel so often that any pet would spend more time in the kennel than with us.

I went online and bought three tickets, but not before I made a rookie parenting mistake.

“Hey, Poo! Do you want to go to the circus?”

“Yeahhhhh!” came the unmistakably happy reply.

And so began my task of explaining the concept of “two weeks” to a three-year-old.

This went on and on that fateful Sunday, and it ended badly, with my child weeping as I threatened to shred the tickets if she asked me one more time if we were going to the circus.

Finally, I felt safe enough yesterday to remind her that we would be going to the circus the very next day.

I know. I am an idiot.

More tears. More anger. More threats, and, finally, a dressing-down at 3 a.m. when a small person woke and demanded to see the elephants right that minute.

This morning, The Poo did not call out to us, as is her custom. Instead, she stumbled into our room with one thought on her mind:

“Mommy! Daddy!” she said. “Is it time for the circus now?”

Her face was so hopeful and small that it was hard for me to answer. But we did, and now we are occupying the hours between 9 a.m. and 1:15 p.m. with chores and lunch and Noggin, careful to not mention “the C-word” until just before we get in the car.

The Poo will wear her “circus dress” – what that is, I do not know – and we will make our way the few short miles to the giant hall that looks like a spaceship.

We’ll enter and we’ll smell the hay and the elephants and the popcorn, and we will see the world through our child’s eyes, a gift that never ceases to open my heart painfully wide.

I am a cautious person, a person whose first instinct is to distrust. I was born knowing the world is a dreadful place, full of disappointments and hurts. Blessed as I am, and as often as I remind myself of that fact, I still see darkness before the light breaks.

Unless I am with my girl, this newly minted soul whose eyes sense the brightness well before the dawn. She is so happy, so shiny, so excited by the smallest treat and the simplest pleasure.

And so today, I can hold her small hand and watch her beautiful face while she finds the extra in the ordinary. Because yes, darling Poo, it is time for the circus.