Now Chicken didn’t do pointe dance– she stuck with adult jazz because she was all about soccer. But ZoomBoy REALLY wanted to do pointe class, and Squish didn’t want him going without her and so pointe class it is.
It’s 2 1/2 hours of dance on Wednesday nights is what it is.
Just looking at them, torsos straight, legs painfully positioned– it made me hurt. (I was seated in a really uncomfortable chair, so that might have been it too.)
This picture is a little blurry– the room was dark and I zeroed in on my kids so you didn’t get the whole lot of them (although they are all very graceful) and I think it’s telling here. Squish still holds herself like a little girls.
Her brother thinks he’s Mikhail Baryzhnikof (sic).
A reader was texting me tonight, telling me I should record my inspiration for some of my stories as I go– and usually I do. For instance, it’s no secret that I got the idea for Jared’s school from Behind the Curtain from the kids’ dance teacher and her willingness to take anybody who works hard.
Watching my kids work hard–especially ZoomBoy–who walked away exhilarated, like he’d been waiting for pointe class all his life–was really awesome.
Squish cried in exhaustion all the way home, though. Tomorrow she has soccer. I assume she’s sleeping from Friday afternoon until her game on Saturday.
Life isn’t always as easy on the young as we think it is.
Anyway, on the way home, I tagged Mate and asked him to get food so the kids could get ready for bed–it was almost nine!
As we were in the middle of exchanging our days (Mate signed me up to be on ZoomBoy’s drama board. I am underwhelmed with excitement, because everything–EVERYTHING I tell you, about my psychological make up has created an excellent match for petty politics) ZoomBoy interrupted us for a note about science.
“How do you tell male ants from female ants?” he asked us, mid-kvetch.
“I have no idea,” I said.
“You put them in water, and if it sinks, it’s a girl ant. If it floats, it’s a buoyant…”
It took me a moment to realize I’d been had.
Then I had to relay the joke to Mate, because ZoomBoy was in the back seat and Mate couldn’t hear it the first time.
After Mate had groaned, he said, “I thought they were all girls. Cause they’re aunts, get it?”
And I was brought forcibly back to Men In Black and “Was that your auntie?”
And hence the title of the blog.
And if you dream of ants in purple chiffon skirts doing stretches, I’m sure it’s not my fault.