Last week Scout had her first dance recital. Performing to “My Boyfriend’s Back,” she pirouetted, did her plies and releves, executed a stunning arabesque, pointed her toes, and then joyously ran off the stage and asked to take her costume off.
Stellar job, darling.
If you remember, we began at a local dance studio for a mommy and me class, and when that class was cancelled due to low enrollment we looked for another less intensive option for a four year-old girl. Friends of ours made a suggestion and thus, Scout and her best friend were able to take dance together every week.
I love this age because almost everyone is her best friend, but in the most sincere form. Emotions are strong and connections (and memories) run deep.
The two of them, the best friends, were paired together for the routine which was both sweet and fitting. My mother took her to class every week and so I felt a little disconnected from the dance experience, but recounting the class once she returned home proved enjoyable and humorous at once.
Most importantly, the class offered a recital at the culmination for all of us to see her hard work. Truth be told, the recital is really what it’s all about at this age; wearing a sparkly, twirly, fluffy costume with hair just so and makeup applied (in the form of chapstick).
Perhaps it comes with the territory of being born second, but when she realized that all the commotion and fanfare around the night was focused on her, her cheeks turned a few shades of red and her grin stretched from ear to ear. She was smitten. The stage was her oyster, if only for a few short minutes, and she was able to share it with her best friend.
At its conclusion (but before she insisted her costume be removed) her mother (that would be yours truly) failed to garner the requisite floral trophy. As any best friend would, hers willingly gave her a stem from her own bouquet to share. It meant even more to her then, and she clung to it all the way home, waiting until I handed her a vase of water before she would unfurl her fingers from its stem. Relationships mean a lot to this precocious girl of mine.
Drama aside, she enjoyed being the belle of the ball and the center of everyone’s attention (including that of her doting big brother). I doubt she has a future with The School of American Ballet, but she certainly has one with The School of American Friendship.
"Hey-la, hey-la, my boyfriend's back"