Fun fact: When your kid is in a school drama production, you discover a secret: every play is powered by an army of parent volunteers. This year, I’m on the set-painting crew, and it’s actually quite a lot of fun.
Last weekend, I needed to finish some flags for the Queen of Hearts scenes. My plan? Wrap them up at school during a painting session—using actual tables instead of crouching on the ground like a medieval peasant. Not to mention staying hydrated and having access to a real bathroom. Genius, right?
Until I got the text: Session cancelled.
Did I let that stop me? Of course not. I decided to go anyway. I figured I’d have the whole school to myself, which sounded like a dream: no interruptions (unlike at home), no distractions (like requests to help). Just me and my artistic genius (okay, a paintbrush and some flags).
Fast forward to me in the school parking lot, realising that while I had all the painting supplies I needed, I didn’t have access to the school.
No big deal. I rolled out a tarp, plonked myself on my knees, and got to work.
For two and a half hours. Outdoors. On asphalt.
By the end, my knees were sore, my back ached, my water bottle was empty, and I was seriously reconsidering every life choice that led me there. But I pressed on.
(I am, after all, a drama-mama warrior.)
With just ten minutes left before I had to pack up, I noticed movement in the distance. A family was approaching the school. I kept painting but couldn’t help being curious about their plan. The school was, after all, locked.
As I was about to shout, “It’s locked!” I stopped.
They reached the gate. Gave it a tug. And… it swung open.
They walked right in without so much as a backward glance.
Wait. WHAT? The gate had been open THE ENTIRE TIME?
Cue my lessons learned (two, actually):
1. Schools are open on weekends. Who knew?
2. When you assume something won’t work, you might be locking yourself out of opportunities. Literally.
Sometimes, the only thing standing between you and your goals is a gate you didn’t bother to try. So, pull the gate. Push the button. Make the call. Whatever it is, don’t count yourself out before you’ve even started.
What gate are you staring at today?
Bonus takeaway: Painting on your knees in a parking lot may lead to an unexpected (and unappreciated) workout. Next time, I’m bringing a chair.
