Thursday, April 10, 2008

The Dance Recital...or Why I Became an Alcoholic

Let it be known that their hair was carefully curled and be-glittered, their costumes were pressed, all of their many hairpieces and accessories organized, AND they were on time for every performance. If I'm being strictly factual, I would also have to admit that they subsisted for four days on snacks and McDonald's, as we were usually either: a. on our way to a performance, b. backstage, or c. on our way home from a performance. They also didn't get what could be characterized as a normal amount of sleep for four days. But, dang it, they had a ball, and they were so proud to be up on stage doing their meticulously rehearsed dances that it made me a little bit teary every time I watched them.

Bear, doing her tap routine:

Bug, doing her tap routine:

Bear, doing her jazz routine to Michael Jackson's "Thriller":


Bug, doing her ballet routine:

Bear, doing her ballet routine:


...and I am SO FREAKING GLAD IT'S OVER!

3 comments:

TommyBMcC said...

Me too. Thou art a saint. Though I admit I thought someone was going to be murdered over the hair-bun. A hairbrush bears a startling resemblance to a mace.

Nana said...

I loved every minute of the recital in spite of fighting a cold at the time. Perhaps Bear could learn to put her own hair in a bun between now and next April??

jenn said...

Unless she's prepared to sit through me wrangling all that hair into a bun again, I think that would be wise. Maybe I could send her to hairdressing camp this summer??