Thursday, August 14, 2008


I've signed C up for ballet this fall and we finally made it out to the suburban dance emporium this afternoon. It was dazzling--an entire store full of ballet shoes and tap shoes and leotards and tights and various sparkly outfits. Operating within her ballet teacher's guidelines, we bought C a blue skirted leotard, two pairs of pink tights, and ballet shoes. The tab for her ballet kit was $63. C also picked out a pair of fairy wings, which she will eventually buy from me. We spent quite a while picking out the right size ballet shoes, and C tip-toed around in three or four different pairs before we reached the right size. She and I made plans to put more Angelina Ballerina DVDs in her Netflix queue. Around us, girls came, were fitted with ballet shoes (even shiny pink satin toe shoes!), and went. I began to understand that dance is a very serious business, and that the purchase of a first pair of ballet shoes is a rite of passage. Next stop, anorexia?

Later, at home, C and I had a difference of opinion over my store. C thinks that she and D should each contribute $3 to buy a $6 sticker book, and then the two of them will share it. I'm not going to allow this arrangement, believing that think that it would ultimately be unfair to D.

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