Saturday (two weeks ago) was the day of the big ballet recital, one of the most important and eagerly anticipated events in our house.
When Mireya got her fancy schmancy outfit for her part in the Lavender Ladies part of the recital, she nearly came apart when I told her she couldn’t wear it outside a climate controlled area where there were no sharp objects, including the cat. It hung in its bag in the closet for ages, torturing her every day.
There was a brief reprieve for picture day, when the dress came out of the bag. We smoothed out her unruly curls, got out Mommy’s make up, wore the really red lipstick and, before a ruffle could get caught on a door knob, snapped a picture, and the dress went back in its bag and into the closet.
I’m pretty impressed she didn’t actually implode from the weeks of anticipation.
Finally the day arrived, and the recital was a great success. It’s interesting, some sort of magic seems to come over ballerinas when they hit the grand old age of seven. and there seems to be actual dancing involved. When Mireya was five years old the title of the class was “creative movement,” a title clearly meant to manage parent’s expectations.
Back then, our little ballerina (to use the term loosely) plucked a flower from a stage rose bush and got from point A to point B with a little bit of tip toeing and only one wave to the audience.
At the time we cried as if she’d danced the lead in Swan Lake.
This time the Lavender Ladies were a sight to behold, dancing their routine flawlessly, as far as we could tell. Again, we cried. Afterwards Mireya accepted her post performance roses from Daddy graciously. Then she turned to me.
“Now can I wear it outside?” she asked.
“Absolutely. You can wear it every day, if you want,” I said.
Which is why we went to an early dinner with a ballerina and a Lavender Lady was in the produce aisle at the grocery store, demonstrating first position when requested.
So, if you happen to spot a Lavender Lady in full regalia on a trampoline, at the gas station, or in the toy aisle, you’ll know why.
And feel free to ask to see her first position. Or even second. It’s a sight to behold.