Dear Prudence

The entire recital (which managed to completely pack out our high school auditorium) was Beatles themed. Priscilla's group danced to Dear Prudence and Mary's to Yellow Submarine ("That is NOT a beautiful song," she once complained to me). I was out of town, having made plans long before the date for the recital was set, and so my parents generously offered to help Troy get the girls ready. Seeing as that process involved tights and hair pins and sparkly pink lip gloss, I know he was grateful. 

I checked in frequently by phone, trying to imagine them on that stage, savoring the details being provided for me by my niece and mother. Yes, Mary did wear the sailor hat after all, despite swearing up and down that she would not put it on - not for the dress rehearsal, not for the show, not EVER. No, they didn't get overly nervous. Yes, they remembered their moves, for the most part. Yes, it was as special a night as they'd hoped it would be.

The sweetest part was my husband who told me later that he'd totally underestimated how much he'd enjoy watching his two daughters perform their little hearts out. Half way through the program, the director announced the names of the three girls who were chosen to join the accelerated ballet class (OK, watch out here because I do plan on bragging just a little bit) and right there in front of that big old crowd she called Priscilla up, handed her a flower, and congratulated her on being one of them. Priscilla beamed, I was told. Troy was so proud. 

You can bet your ballet shoes I won't miss it next year!