Dance

Last weekend marked the end of dancing season for our ballerina.

Like last year, we were (unintentionally) early, so two hours went by before it was her turn to show off what she had learned this year. There was enough time for her teachers to undo the bun I had tied her hair in and redo it from scratch, for snacks to be eaten, friends to be played with and excitement to rise. When I mention excitement, I refer mostly to myself. Maia was as cool as a cucumber and couldn’t wait to glide into the examination studio to see what her examiner looked like.

I’d like to say I’m not reliving my dancing days through her but I’d be lying. I’m so proud of her.

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