Where's the Dummy?

My son and my daughter both tried out to be in the school play.  They got small parts.  I was happy for them.  My daughter told me she was one of the dancers.

"What part did you get?" I asked my son.

"The ventriloquist."

"Ventriloquist!" I said in surprise.  "I don't remember one of those in this play."

"They added it," he told me.

So, I shuffled them home from play practice over and over, quite happily, because, hey, one of the funnest things in life is watching your own children perform on a stage.  I was very proud of my oldest son at his graduation when he got his master's degree, but, to be honest, the time when I really thought my heart was going to burst wide open with pride and drench everyone in the audience around me was when he pulled off, with no hesitation or bashfulness at all, a song and dance in a coconut bra.  Why?  Because he did such a good job, and everyone was laughing to the point of rolling in the aisles.  That was MY SON up there!  

After one of these play practices, my younger son told me I was supposed to come up with the dummy for his act.

"Ho no!" I breathed.  "I don't think so."  It's not like we have a dummy in the closet.

I thought about it.  If I had a dummy, of course I would hand it right over.  But I don't even know where one would go to purchase something like that.  I couldn't recall ever seeing one in any kind of store.  And it's not like we can make one, or send little sister's doll.  Dummies have a very specific look about them, and their jaws have to move.

After all, I hadn't had to buy the coconut bra.  It was a prop.  And, as far as I know, I haven't volunteered to be the props mistress for this play.  I am happy to supply two of the actors and the treat every now and then--and I absolutely intend to come and watch it--but that pretty much maxes out my ability to support this school play.

"You'll have to tell your director that we aren't going to be able to come up with the dummy," I told my son one evening.  He didn't argue.

But, the next thing I heard, the expectation for the dummy was still on us.

"Didn't you tell her?" I asked.

"She said, 'Try harder.'"

My heart sank and fizzed.  Try harder to what?  To say that we can't take on that responsibility?  Why did she add a ventriloquist to the play if she didn't know how to get a dummy? 

"What did you say exactly?"

"I said, 'We can't come up with the dummy.'"

"Can't is pretty clear," I agreed.

I didn't know what to do.  Is it really my responsibility to provide a dummy?  And how would I do that?  It's one thing to say, "Wear black flats" or "Wear a white shirt."  Coming up with a prop that unusual and specific just seems too much to expect.

"Your uncle used to have a dummy," I told him my son.  I didn't hold out much hope that he would still have it.  A pack rat he is not, and he has risen to higher and higher levels of responsibility since he was twelve.  But I gave my son his phone number and helped him figure out what to say to him.

He took the phone into the other room and came back about a minute later.  "He said if he still had it, he would be glad to give it to me," my son said.  I smiled.  My brother always was a good diplomat.  But, no, he probably gave up the dummy decades ago.

Try harder.

Am I a dummy if I don't bust my buttons finding a dummy for my son's play?  Or am I a dummy if I do bust my buttons just because someone with no authority over me said I should?

I posted a request to borrow a dummy on Facebook.  Apparently, I am not alone in my dummylessness.  At least, none of my friends will admit to having one, or is willing to let us borrow it if he does.

The play isn't being performed until next month.  Perhaps a dummy will find us somehow.  In the meantime, I may have to craft a well-worded email. 

How are these, for starters?

I am no dummy, and I have no dummy.

or

I've tried saying dum-dum-dum-DUM! without success.

or

Will the real dummy please stand up?

or

Sorry.  We C-A-N-'-T come up with the dummy.