Rada and I went to the Big Apple circus last weekend. I enjoyed it immensely, marvelling in its otherworldliness, and appreciating the unusual talents of the performers.
There were people who stood on their head and allowed people to stand on top of other people who then stood on top of them. These very same people then took their right arm and waved it to the crowd, eliciting gasps and ‘oohs ‘from the audience.
There was a woman who stood in the middle of the ring with a smile and a whip and herded a group of bejewelled horses in a circle.
There was an acrobatic troup that performed inside cylindrical structures dressed in phosphorescent painted leotards. At one point, the tent went dark, and nothing was visible except the green, yellow and orange swirls on their costumes.
I loved every minute of it.
Rada, on the other hand, was squirmy, and whiney. She complained about not being able to see, even though on my lap she had a great view. She talked about the lights being too bright and there being too many people. Not far into the second half she started asking when it would be over. And not too long after that she asked to go home. A few minutes later she asked again. So we did.
And Rada was happy to get home. She curled up in her favorite quilt and watched one of her favorite videos. It was comfort time. And the circus had not been.
I had really *really* not wanted to leave the circus, but it didn’t seem right forcing her to stay.
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