Break a Leg, Scarlett. Again, again, again. . . and so on.

Scarlett, tonight you open yet another show. This time, you're Lizzie, the little match girl in The Match Girl's Gift at the Minnesota Centennial Showboat.

Now, the Matron has blogged as Stage Mother, many times. Indeed, she has a standard 'break a leg' post that she's abandoning because the read has become too long. Yes, yes: she knows blog readers have about a two minute attention span per page and Scarlett's theater journey is now more novel than novella.

Blog readers: why are we so fickle? Yours truly includes herself in the fast-reading crowd. Give her three minutes a blog and she's happy.

Anyway, this opening night is special to your mother. Not just because it's on a boat (which is pretty cool), and five minutes from the house (even cooler, perhaps) but because the energy and idealism of the young artists (okay, she thinks being in your twenties is young) is contagious. There's something special and dynamic about this group of people; she thinks your show will reflect that energy and integrity.

Plus, it's your mother's birthday. Don't remind her of the exact number of years she's celebrating. Sigh . . .

Also, Scarlett, your mother was proud of you today. You were offered a lead role -- Jiminy Cricket in Pinocchio --and after much agonizing, turned it down so you could audition for another theater, Youth Performance Company, a place you love beyond all reason. Well, there is a reason. It's 'youth' and 'performance.' What better summary for your life thus far?

Even knowing there are no guarantees -- indeed the chances of getting into the next show are always small (there's lots of rejection, even with success) --you opted for the integrity of saying no to Pinocchio at the get go, rather than signing on and perhaps resigning a week later.

Matron: "Could you just say yes to Pinocchio and then if you get into the other show, back out a week later?"

Scarlett: "MOM! I would never do that. Once you say yes, you're in. That would be totally unfair to the other theater."

Good for you, honey. Your mother hopes you keep that spirit with you for the rest of your life, in all your endeavors.

And break a leg tonight. She'll be in the audience, cheering you on and reminding herself that she was present at your birth, so she knows a child of hers can actually harmonize in front of hundreds. That's your father's blood.