What a weekend.
- snake wrangling
- super-glued fingers
- big fat horned-worm hunting [and subsequent flushing]
- toast on fire and
- a marathon ballet recital...3 hours!
Of course we thought our ballerina was the cutest of them all,
and knew the dance steps better than anyone,
and more graceful than even the seasoned dancers.
We might be a bit biased, though.
But just a bit.
It was Olive's first ballet recital and she soaked up every spotlight and applause. My mind began to wander through the modern dance numbers, imagining designing dance costumes and the fabric that would suit the movement necessary. I think I'd enjoy the challenge.
I told her I used to dance when I was little [and complained every single time, right, mom?]
She asked if I ever became a famous ballerina.
I laughed and said no, and that she had a much better chance at it than I ever did.