Let's kick it
One of the presents Elle got for Christmas from my parents was a dance class at Just for Kix. She was so excited when she opened the gift and found a little leotard and pair of tights. Now she talks about her "dancing class" all the time. A half a dozen times a day she says "Watch Mama! This is how I dance in dancing class with my dancing class with all the other little girls!" and then she whirls and twirls and dips her way across the room. Or rather, that's what she used to do. Now that she's done it more it's kind of mutated into something like this.
Only less creepy. And more adorable and pink. The class starts on Saturday so today my parents took her to the studio to get her official dance class shoes. Apparently she was very impressed with the studios and it's big wall of mirrors. She also told me that the studio was called "Just for Kicking" and then demonstrated this by kicking the couch.
My parents also bought Elle a pink insulated lunch bag that she could put a juice box and snack in for after class. They also bought her yogurt, cheese and Chex Mix because she asked them too. I think that they, much like me, are powerless against the charms of her charming three-year-old-ishness.* Or maybe there's some hypnotic quality about her dance moves. I wonder if I danced like that if I could get people to buy me things too.
Actually, no. Just the thought of me contorting my body like that is enough to make even me laugh. Oh god. I need to go lay down for a while.
*Seriously, this kid has mad powers. Today she broke something of Joseph's and I told her that she was going to have to buy him ice cream with her own money to make it up to him. She looked at me for a moment and then said "Well I don't have any dollars in my pockets so I can't do that." So I gave her a dollar to put in her pocket. Best. Mother. Ever.
5 comments:
Well... I don't have any dollars in my pocket either... *waits patiently*
;)
dance class for three-year-olds is just about the cutest thing there is. until you get to the end of the year, and it's recital time, and you have to sit through three hours of three-year-olds dancing. according to my mother, that is not so cute.
Yeah, that kid is pretty much so sweet she makes my teeth hurt. Oy.
I think it's the curly red hair.
No, wait, it's her big blue eyes.
No no it's her sweet little voice.
Gah, it might be the way she says things.
Ok, screw that. I can't figure it out either. I just know I want to give her a dollar too.
"I don't have any dollars in my pockets so I can't do that."
Hey, that's my favorite scratchy blues record from the 40's!
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