Let is also go on record that I was wrong. Dead wrong.
Miss Riley Belle loved dancing.
On a morning ride to school, her best buddy pointed out her dance studio. Riley pipes up, "I want to go to dance." I knew she was serious because she kept talking about it.
We went out yesterday and purchased her shoes and dance outfit. She was ecstatic. Danced in the store. This was course after she freaked out in the Target dressing room because she was afraid the attendant would come in on her naked. She also kept repeating, "I don't like that lady." The lady look unamused when we exited the room.
After school and her snack, Riley dressed in her dance ensemble and waited for her ride to class. She kept her shoes, socks, and water bottle in the bag I dug up from my stash, insisting to sling it across her chest like I wear my diaper bag.
Because of the plague currently attacking Reese's eye, nose, throat, and ears, we stayed home and Riley rode with our friends. She shot the in-studio pictures of our ballerina and tap dancer in action. She can't wait to go back next week.