It’s June and my hands are sticky with hair gel. This can only mean one thing: dance recital season.
There’s nothing like watching a flutter of little ballerinas cavorting on a stage. Lyra, of course, is the least little one.
When we entered the class for the first lesson the teacher tried to explain to me that this was the kindergarten group. When she realized that by age, Lyra was in the correct room, the teacher looked up and down my 5 foot, 5.5 inch frame and asked, “so, where are the tall genes in the family?”. Fortunately, Lyra doesn’t think too much about being a half a head taller than the really tall girls, or that she towers over her more moderately sized classmates. She’s just there to dance.
And does she dance.
Next year she moves up to the first grade classes with their black leotards and chiffon skirts.
I’m enjoying the pink while it lasts.