Despite the best intentions of my sister and her husband to offer my niece Fiona non-gender-specific toys and clothing, at 3-1/2 years old, she has proven to be a very girly girl. Her favorite color is pink, she can name all the Disney princesses (can you?), and she spends entire days wearing a satin Cinderella gown or a pink tutu. (I've had the pleasure of escorting the Princess to the store around the corner, where she hammed it up and elicited lots of smiles from other shoppers.)
This morning, after Fiona put on her pink dress, floral tights, and ballet slippers, my brother-in-law turned on the classical music station so she could dance. First she danced with him so she could show us how he dipped her, but then she insisted on a center stage solo. She has a child's natural sense of rhythm, and entertained us with some very creative moves--spins, leaps, struts, tippy-toes, the works. We have no idea where she learned this stuff--apparently her first (and last) ballet lesson was a fiasco. What most delighted us, though, was the intense expression on her face as she performed for us. This was serious stuff for our ballerina diva.
Dancing little girl--
so young but so serious,
life's stage before her.