Dark windy Friday night.
A quartet of women,
two moms and two girls.
Four tickets; showtime.
It's the last weekend
for the World Premiere
of Little Miss Perfect.
Lucky for us, we're here!
We take in the musical
about an anxious type-A
high schooler in grief.
She juggles performance
politics, repression, scandal
truth, love, and identity.
This newly penned play
feel immersive and resonant.
We feel first-hand the students'
struggles, toils, fears, obsessions.
We bop along with the score.
We howl and hoot and clap.
We scrunch our faces in a row
as we cringe with knowing recognition.
Our cheeks grow hot, Eek!
We're second-hand embarrassed
when a character brings their
authentic awkward charm
to a scene.
When a soloist belts out
or hit the high notes or
rolls their octaves,
we feel it — this is powerful.
My fellow mom leans over
catches my ear and whispers:
"Do you think that Lin-Manuel
has seen this yet?!"
Someday not far from now
we feel confident we'll see
this title lit up on marquees
on Broadway and West End.
Little Miss Perfect,
she's going places.
What a joy to have
witnessed her first act.
