That Elton John song has been our theme all weekend long as we gear up for what has become the biggest event of Tiny Dancer's career: beginning Kinderdance.
You would think we're sending her to college with as big a fuss as we've made over this.
We're about to send our "I won't talk or look at anyone that I'm not INSANELY comfortable with" to a dance class with strangers (and no parents allowed). Yikes.
We've gotten her little dance outfits together (which has been a hilarious process for my non-dance, athletic-sports-only self). I didn't know what a leotard was until this weekend. Or ballet slippers. Or tutus or any type of dance attire. I feel like a pro now.
She's been gearing up for weeks now and today is the day. We shall see if it all pans out. I'm hoping that once she finds out we can't be in the room that she won't run out kicking and screaming.
Though Buster doesn't want any part of the dance attire, he is working on his twirling skills in case he's asked to be a guest star in one of her recitals. They always need a prince, right?