Dance Camp

There was only one prince at the princess-themed dance camp. “Well, you did sign him up for a girls’ camp,” said Kevin, to which I took great offense–boys can dance, don’t stereotype by sex, all the rest of it, as if I hadn’t signed him up purely because it was a camp that his sister would agree to go to AND that would accept three-year-olds (ie. a total marriage of convenience). Then I went to the recital. And I thought to myself: alright, I’ll admit it, I signed him up for a girls’ camp. He wore an expression on his face, throughout, of toleration. As in: I’m showing up, I’m wearing the knight outfit and carrying a sword, and I’ll bow when you make me, but we must never speak of this princess crown again. Whereas his sister looked blissfully happy.

The view from here
In the garden


  1. That photo made me laugh out loud! Nice!

  2. Love it…post and photo made me laugh out loud too! x


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