The saddest comment of my summer was when someone said to me, "Do you remember when the cute little ones were ours?"
We were at a dance recital watching our little angels, and the 3 and 4-year-olds were on stage. It really doesn't matter what they do; their cuteness steals the show. Dance? What dance? One of the little girls kept adjusting her dress so that at least one of her tiny nipples peaked out at all times. "It should be off your shoulders," her mom said. She was just following directions.
Another group dressed as bunnies and stomped/hopped their way around the stage. Those were the days.
My daughter was, as always, perfect. I didn't see her miss a step. My mommy radar couldn't take my eyes off of her. What a doll.
But she and her friends have certainly grown since that first year. They used to color as they waited in the dressing room. This time, they pretended to be "dead dolls" lying all over the floor, making all of the little girls nervous. Times, they are a changin'.
1 comment:
I love your eye for detail. Dance is such a rite of passage, and there are common landmarks on that trip through girlhood. I laughed at the image of the girl pulling down her costume--little girls are so literal and so full of figety energy...
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