Pretty Ballerina

(Look. You know and I know I have no excuse for not posting over the summer. Let's just agree to be friends again and forget that part of our lives.)

Anybody who knows me is aware that I am passionate about sports. From the moment Megan was born I have been ITCHING to sign her up for soccer, golf, tennis, badminton, floor hockey, tiddlywinks leagues, etc.

However you can't just throw her in these things before she's ready. Because I know if she isn't slightly skilled or is scared it will scar her forever from participating. So I've been biding my time until I can turn this little girl into the competitive dynamo of my dreams (slight sarcasm).

BUT blogworld, what I didn't anticipate were nefarious entities within my own family who were conspiring against my plan. I laughed when she got her first tutu. I can now count four in our home. I even raised an eyebrow when Jillian started painting her fingernails and toes earlier this summer.

I should have known this was all a set up for the long con. For you see, my wife casually decided to sign up my sweet athletic powerhouse for .... dance class. NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOO!

To add insult to injury, I was taken to help buy her outfit and shoes for said dance class. I cried the whole way there. Internally. I feared this was the gateway to losing my little girl forever. There would be no time for grass stains and shinguards. She'll be too busy with sequins and tights. My world was irrevocably shifting.

And then I saw her in her outfit.

The emotion I felt seeing her standing there, grinning from ear to ear, staring at me, wanting affirmation and approval, was too much. My eyes watered, endorphins within me bubbled, and I smiled; a wide, infectious, all-encompassing smile at seeing my daughter enter a new stage of life.

I could resist no longer.

Besides ... I hear dance is good for balance and core stability. Those traits will come in handy in a few years in youth soccer. Right?