I know you have been waiting with baited breath (or not) to find out if I managed to get Z to dance class on time. I did. She was a vision in pink. Leotard, tights, ballet shoes, and giant pink bows. Excuse me, I think I need some insulin for that hypoglycemic coma I have coming on.
She had the best time. She said the other girls were nice and that she "learned a whole billion of dances." She calls each separate exercise a dance. Plies=1, Shuffle Step=2, etc. Her teacher said that she did a great job today, but I don't know her well enough to know if that is what she tells all the parents.
The only disappointment was that the owner's cat wasn't hanging around outside. Z called her and called her to no avail. Personally, I'm guessing the cat heard the calling and said to herself, "I don't think so."
So I am all redeemed from last week's mishap. Though Z did castigate me the whole drive there about being on time and getting the right directions. That's my girl!
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