Stretch Marks

Mom was going to type this blog post but I asked to. And I won. Which is rare....I hardly ever win.

Okay, I could barely type that last sentence without laughing. Could you tell?

So here I am the night of my big dance recital. Mom asked dad if it was okay to put make-up on me and he said "no." But then I asked him. And I wo....well, I think you know.
So here I am in a little blush, a little mascara, some really ridiculous pink and green eye shadow that my mom bought and what dance recital would be complete without some brush on body glitter? I think I look great but I overheard my mom say, "She looks adorable but it looks like Jezebel herself made that outfit."

I don't know who Jezebel is, but I totally dig her.

This was the moment my mom was dreading. At this point in the song some guy named Will.i.Am is singing "Shake it like a Polaroid picture." Which I do. Greatly. And usually I shake my clothes completely off and then mom screams at me, "Don't do that, Remi! Ladies don't take their clothes off. Well, some ladies do, but that's because they are trying to work their way through medical school or so they say." I don't know what she's talking about. So I decided that on my recital night I would not shake my clothes off. But I would shake it nonetheless.




This is my mom's friend Isaiah. He is my spotter. A spotter is someone that is there to catch you were you to slip and fall while doing your flip. I use Isaiah in a completely different way. I walk over to him, verrrrry slowly, turn around to him and say "flip me." And then he does. And its worked out perfectly. I think I'll keep him.

This is my class. I'm the cute one on the end. I have to stand on the end in every dance because I'm the smallest one in the class. Mom says that will be helpful someday when they need me to be on top of the pyramid. Then she mumbles, "unlike myself who once had to support three girls and I have lower back problems to this day to prove it....and that was at FAT CAMP."

This is the outfit I wear for my tap number. I have to hold my breath just right in it or mom says the entire thing will fall apart. She says the outfits I wear have "sweat shop" written allllllllll over them. Whatever that means.

Well, its the end of the night now and I'm tired. I've done three dances, two tumbling routines, changed clothes three times and eaten half my body weight in fruit snacks. Dad told me he would take me to eat anywhere I want to go. I chose shushi. I always choose shushi.

On my way to the car one of my fans surprised me with some flowers. "Thank you, Poppy." Poppy gave me flowers, daddy's buying me shushi...boy, I told mom that men sure do have a thing for girls in babydoll outfits that dance. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head and mumbled, "You have noooooooooo idea."