Dance in the pants

Sadie is into her fourth week of dance class this week.

And, yes mom and dad, I know that is more than I did. For all of those not in the know, when I was a wee child I quit ballet because I thought I knew everything already and they didn't let you wear a tutu.

This was serious ballet. You don't get to wear a tutu until you're performing Swan Lake.

I am not serious. I wanted to wear a dang tutu.

Well, whatever the reason then, I did complete an entire semester of ballet in college. And that was tutu-less as well. Just so you don't think I'm that much of a flake.

Notice I didn't say so that you think I'm not flaky. I can't try to dodge that bullet.

So, Sadie's class. She loves it. Look at her face.

Look at her cute little knees and arms.

Look at those tap shoes. We have been treated to a good bit of house tapping.

Hours of in-house tap-shoeing. Good thing I'm not driven crazy easily.

See, being flaky pays off sometimes.