Marcel Monday: On not being a ballerina boy
At a ballet birthday party today, Marcel said No.
No to the hat, no to the music, no to any kind of organized movement.
Yes to Mr. Potato head in the plastic box in the other room.
Yes to sitting in my lap, and yes to running up and down the halls of the old converted mill.
No to the table of mostly ballerinas seated for pizza and cake.
Yes to the “grown up” folding chairs around the periphery.
He loves his ballerina friends, and loves to dance. But he remarked, “my moves stay inside the house Mom. If I wanted to take them outside I would go dance in the park, or on top of the car. Not in a loud place with so many people inside.”
I am still working out my own opinion of the “Princess Boy’s” mother’s choice to invite a five year
old into the media maylay over his story. For a compelling discussion on the topic please see My Brown Baby’s post here.
In my case, I was just happy that for once, I let him do what he wanted, and didn’t sweat the small stuff. He had a blast actually, and so did I.