|
|
Drama Skits
| ||||||||||||||||||||
|
Style: |
Drama |
|
Characters: |
2 (1 Male, 1 Female) |
|
Length: |
5-8 Minutes |
|
Cost: |
$10.00 |
| Themes: | Fathers, Father's Day; Reflecting on childhood memories; Relationship between a father and son; Keeping memories alive; Memories of a parent who has passed away |
| Note: This skit is written mostly as a
narrative, with a male character reading from a journal throughout most of
the skit.
|
|
| Summary: This skit is a touching tribute to the memory of a lost loved one, in this case the loss of a father. As the skit opens, we find a man in his forties reflecting on the memories and childhood of his son, by reading over a journal he's kept for many years. The journal covers everything from the day the man found out he was going to be a father, through diaper changes, camping trips, how to ride a bike, dating, all the way to the birth of his own grandson. It is not until the end of the skit, that the audience realizes the man speaking is not the father, but actually the grown-up son. It is here we discover the boy's father died when he was quite young, and that the son continued the tradition of writing in the journal, just as if his father had never left. When the son's wife ponders why he has done this, the son remarks that he feels this is the way his dad would have wanted it. To the son, the father never truly died because all the memories of him live on in his mind. The father has been a steady (though not physical) presence throughout his son's life. This skit will remind us that even though we have lost those who are dear to us, they are never far from our hearts, and certainly not forgotten. | |
| Excerpt: This is a sample from the first few pages of the skit. Letters to My Son Setting:
A home office, with a desk and chair. There is a picture frame sitting on
the desk. A man in his 40’s enters and calls to someone
off stage. Man: Honey,
I’m going to be in my office for a bit.
I want to jot down some thoughts while their fresh on my mind.
Let me know when it’s time to leave. (The man takes a seat at the desk, and flips
through the pages of the journal) Man: Now,
where was I? (He picks up a pen and holds it.
The narrative begins as the man reads out loud from the pages of
the journal.)
To My Unborn Child,
I found out I was going to be a dad today. For a few short seconds
I couldn’t breathe. I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me. Me, a dad! Even
as I write the word now, my heart is beating so fast. Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea of being a father.
I come from a long line of great dads.
Even still, I can’t help but wonder…will I be a good
dad? (he turns the page)
To My Unborn Child,
I’ve had a few days to get used to the idea that you are actually
coming and that in a matter of months, I will become your father.
Every time I say or even think of the word “dad” I smile.
I can’t help it. I grin from ear to ear.
(pause) Ears…(lets out a big sigh) I’m praying to
God you don’t get my ears. To My Handsome Son, Anthony
David,
You have finally arrived: all 7 lbs, 6 oz. of you!
You’ve got thick, dark hair just like your mom and a strong jaw
just like mine. I can’t
believe I have a son! You’re
really here.
Dear Anthony, You’ve been home for a few months now. So far, fatherhood isn’t what I expected. I’ve changed a few diapers, gave you a few bottles, and mostly, watched you sleep. You’ve shown no interest in the ball glove I gave you the first day you came home nor the fishing the pole that sits untouched in the corner of your room. You do however seem to be fascinated with my nose.
Dear Anthony, I was sitting at my desk today when you took your first steps….and when you hit your head on the filing cabinet. You’re growing so fast!
Dear Anthony,
I took you on your first fishing trip today.
You could barely hold the pole but I know you were having a good
time. But do me a favor: next
time don’t get so close to the edge of the dock.
I’m just glad I was there to catch you! Dear Anthony, Today was your first day of
school. Your mother
was a mess. She
couldn’t stop crying. Not
me. I was so proud of you.
You looked like a little man as you climbed up the stairs to that
big, yellow school bus. You’re
on your way, son. Those were
your first steps toward independence: a journey to the rest of your life.
Dear Anthony,
You started little league this year.
I knew that ball glove would come in handy some day!
Don’t worry about the balls you dropped. They won’t be your last.
You’re quite a fast runner.
I’m thinking…track star? We also took the training wheels off your bike this year. You weren’t so sure at first, but I didn’t let go until you were ready. You got a few scrapes here and there but nothing worthwhile in life comes easy. You did a great job, son!
Dear Anthony,
This year we had our first Boy Scout camping trip.
I was so proud of you for navigating your way through the forest.
All that time we spent going over map skills really helped.
And when did you become such a great swimmer?
It seems like just yesterday you were swimming in those pull-up
diapers. How fast time is
going by! We made our first birdhouse this year too. You put a lot of effort into making that house: you hammered in those nails with relative ease and had fun painting it. The house itself was a little lopsided but it looked great anyway, and I know for a fact the birds won’t mind! |
|
Skits
and
Stuff