Dancing Queen

February 20, 2008  

The daughter has had an absolutely fantastic weekend. She’s been dancing, dancing, dancing. In the words of that amazing film “Dirty Dancing” - she gets that from me y’know! The husband would laugh at this as he says I dance like I’m having a poo - how he can say that when he just stands around clapping I don’t know!

Anyway, we went to a neighbour’s birthday party and the daughter had an absolute ball. The neighbour had arranged for the festivities to begin at 5 so people could bring their kids - I thought this was really thoughtful of her. The daughter was up constantly. The downside of this is that Mammy also has to dance in the middle of  the dancefloor - which apart from the two of us was empty!

I sort of did a shuffle and pretended to talk to her a lot.

She had been dancing with another little girl and then all of a sudden she came back crying and pointing to her nose. She took me by the hand - I thought we were heading to the dancefloor again. No, she only took me to the little girl in question, pointed at her and said “Her”. The little girl’s mum was standing at the side of her and I was mortified. We laughed about it later but I was quite embarassed - I have a little tell-tale!

The next day we had a Christening to go to. The service was lovely and then - yes, there was more dancing! I’ve now heard that there’s a children’s ballet on in a theatre near us so I’m wondering if I should take her. Not sure, sitting happily through Barney - an annoying purple dinosaur with an American accent is one thing but will she enjoy a pirouetting mouse?

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