Tiny Dancer

That's it. I'm convinced. My little princess is going to be a prima ballerina with the long flowing tutu and the grace of the wind whistling through the leaves of an aspen tree.

I've written about Alex's tendency to shake his booty - all the parents laugh out loud when, during taekwondo, while he's supposed to be bouncing in preparation for a kick, he instead wiggles his butt around like he's trying to shake a bug off of it. He always danced from a young age, too. I would swing him around our living room for hours, and I guess that translated into bobbing his head back and forth, which translated to booty-shaking. He was dancing around the living room the other day and he proudly proclaimed that he had "new moves."

Anyway, I thought that he really liked to dance. But then I had my daughter. And DAMN, does she like to dance! Alex danced when there was music on, the radio or a CD or sometimes a commercial on TV. But Emma? All she needs is a beat. A rhythmically spoken sentence, a tapped-out rhythm on a table, even the rhythm of the tires in the car makes her smile, bob her head and shake her shoulders back and forth. I have as much fun watching her sway and smile as I do watching Alex shake his booty.

We need a video camera, because no description can do them justice. You have to see it to truly appreciate the joy the two of them get when they're feeling the music. I guess I understand it because I feel it myself, even if it's just a Britney Spears song. I hope that even after we take him out of his dance class that Alex continues to shake his booty. And that Emma eventually shakes hers, too.