I'm channeling Corky St. Clair

The last time I directed the youth choir musical, I did the same thing. (In that post, though, I elevated my delusions to a Stanislavsky-esque level. I think I'm a bit more accurate with the Corky comparison.)

Last night, after making a couple of signs we'll be using as props, I showed them to Anne-with-an-e and Atticus.

"How do these look?" I asked.

"They look fine," said Atticus.

"They look fine," said Anne.

"Really?" I asked. "Because I think they look a little sloppy. Do you think they look sloppy?"

"They look fine," said Atticus.

"They look fine," said Anne.

"Hmmmm," I said. "Because I'm thinking of letting my Ocd side kick in, and redoing them, so that they'll look perfect."

"Karen," said Atticus, oh-so-patiently, "this is not a Broadway production. It's a church play. No one's expecting perfection."

Yeah. So. Okay.

I left the signs and moved on to making sure my glue gun still works. We have Pharoah-hat-making techniques to perfect, you know.