Everyone’s got their costume, right?
I don’t want any complaining that someone’s forgotten their casket of myrrh, or that the towel they’re using for a shepherd’s headdress stinks. I’m already worried about Harrison and Blake whacking each other with those stupid crooks. I know Madi’s a bit young for the kid-in-the-manger role, but we simply don’t have any other options since Lauren out-and-out refused to be wrapped in swaddling clothes again this year. (I hope Lauren realizes that being demoted to back end of the donkey is direct result of such insubordination. Fingers crossed that Dillon doesn’t get to farting in the front end.)
Kathleen’s furious that she doesn’t have any lines beyond, “I think this baby’s gonna come right this minute, Joe.” Secretly, I think she wants to be one of the wise men. I did worry about installing Diana as one of the three kings, but she likes gold and she’ll at least keep Barry and Brian from fighting over the frankincense – although why they want the stinky stuff is beyond me. I don’t want to hear that it’s typecasting for Allie, Erin and Loretta to be angels, but when God sends you three blondes, you go with it. (And, Erin, I’m not going to put up with you waggling those wings to make the others laugh this year. You can glare at me all you want.)
It’s maybe not such a good idea for Niki to use that pink insulation stuff as a beard. I can’t have Joseph breaking out in a rash. How are the audience going to be filled with a sense of Christmas wonder if Joseph’s scratching the entire time? Kevin’s got enough bombast to sustain a key role like King Herod as long as he memorizes his lines. It’s not all that hard to bellow a decree, but for some reason it just doesn’t stick in that head of his.
Call is at 2:00. Full make-up and costumes. You’ve been warned.
Merry Christmas, love to my family, and peace to all.