The Showgirl's been wanting to start dance classes. Ballet, to be precise. Her mum was a bit slow on the uptake and called a little too late, only to find that the class for 3-year-olds at the school up the road was full. "It's our most popular class," I was told. So we opted for a jazz/tap class instead. Just a trial run, to see if we liked it.
It was fun, and very funny. The two young teachers looked like they might have had a big night the night before. And there were some serious shoes - two pairs per child, in fact. One for jazz, another for tap. That's my girl in the pic above - NOT wearing a ballet skirt or leotard and NOT wearing expensive tap shoes, but nonetheless displaying some fine jazz hands.
"I don't think this is the class for us," I said as we walked home. "No," replied the Showgirl, "not the class for us."
So today we ventured out to another class. Ballet this time. Tick. In a church hall. Tick. Shoes and ballerina attire optional. Tick. Lots of running around waving rainbow-coloured scarves in the air and pretending to be fairies. Big tick.
I didn't do any type of dance class as a kid and I'm a little wary of it all - the concerts and costumes and competition and cost.
But with such obvious talent, how can I deny my girl a little taste of it...