Everyone was on board for the show. They had their fly gear and their hats. I, of course, forgot my sunglasses.
"No problem," mama said, "just squint!"
As we lined up, I squinted at the audience. It never ceased to amaze me that the entire population of a town would stop what it was doing to watch our show every week. But they did. All fifty-four of them, including the dogs.
I was getting antsy. This week, I was the leader! Never before had a child led the show! I wasn't nervous; there's no room for nerves in show-biz. However, I had to be told more than once to stop "jittering", as mama put it.
As the fifty-fourth audience member finally arrived, with the dog, we stood to thunderous applause.
I took my place, threw my hands to the heavens, breathed deep...
And dove down the hill in the greatest somersault I had ever done in my life, each member of my family following in perfect synchronicity behind me.