V: “Where are we going to dinner?”
Me: “Well, you’re having dinner with Dad. I’m going out with one of my friends.”
V: “I’m your friend.”
Me: “What the—[string of obscenities directed at a driver doing something dumb in front of me]!”
V from the backseat: “Don’t crash the car, Mom!”
And currently, she is narrating a conversation between her toes. One has a cold apparently and keeps sneezing, while another has called in his younger brother to have a discussion about going to Disneyland.
Today Violet and I went to see a production of Seussical the Musical put on by an acting troupe of teenagers and kids. Last weekend we saw The Nutcracker. Each of these events was a highlight, as Violet seems to sit pretty patiently and enrapt through any long show involving live entertainment. So sweet.
In her own ballet program’s Nutcracker, or, as her ballet teacher dubbed it, “The Nutcracker as You’ve Never Seen It Before,” Violet played a flower fairy. She and her classmates did a fabulous job dancing the Waltz of the Flower Fairies, and Violet also jumped up and joined in the scene where the mice and toy soldiers do battle. Her teacher didn’t remove her from the scene, and the older dancers whose scene it actually was just ignored their petal-headed party crasher, so Violet danced along the entire time. She made a fine mouse despite her flower costume and brought the house down with her enthusiasm. I laughed so hard I cried. I think it was the funnest moment to date in my parenting career.