As we were waiting onstage for the overture, one of our little elves walked up and accused me of not knowing her name—rude!—and then I had to admit that she was right. And then in our big tappy finale, not one but two—TWO!—of my tap shoes came untied.
I just hope I can salvage what’s left of my joy and dignity in tomorrow’s matinee, or all my Elf the Musical
memories will carry with them the lingering stink of shame and potential OHSA violations.
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