This past Saturday was little Sarah's dance recital, and what a crazy day! It was hot and she was not too happy wearing that "itchy, itchy dwess", but after piling on some body lotion and baby powder she was a little more comfortable. I dropped her off at the stage door of the theatre, and as she walked through the doors with her teacher my tears started to flow. Sarah, however, did not seem to mind at all that she wasn't going to see Mommy for a while, she was excited for the "big show".
Now, out of 42 dances, her class was #35, so we had quite a while to go. At intermission, hubby had to leave with my dear Mother-In-Law as we had received a call that family members were involved in a motorcycle accident. They headed up to the hospital where one of the nieces was helicoptered to, but then another family member took her up so hubby could see his little girl dance. It was quite upsetting, I'm sitting there in the theatre, crying because of the accident, crying because I don't know how everyone really is, crying because music and theaters seem to make me cry, crying cause hubby is missing it... Then he shows back up, in time to see his little darling. I have to admit, she tried, but actually got distracted by some of the girls who didn't dance.
At finale time I'm all excited, looking for her to do her part dancing up the isles and she is no where to be found. Then I realize, that one of the older dancers is holding a sleeping wee little one - my sleeping wee little one! She woke up in a daze to clap her hands and shake her booty for a second then threw up her arms to be held again.
After fetching my beloved little ballerina, we went home, finding out that everyone involved in the accident was going to be ok and the day ended very well for the little dancer and her family.
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