Pooh Bear was excited about it. Thrilled. Stoked. I, on the other hand, hadn't seen my ballet slippers for at least five years. I only had those shoes, because I once was on a liturgical dance team many years ago. Pooh Bear dug them out of my closet last week, placed them on the cedar chest at the end of my bed just to make sure I was ready. Pooh Bear's ballet teacher included mothers in her class yesterday for kicks. Only one other mother besides myself braved the proposal, and I knew Pooh Bear expected me to participate. No bones about it. I do love to dance, but not especially formal ballet technique. I can't figure out if my bottom is sore today from leg lunges I added at the gym or plies' with Miss Michelle. Miss Michelle's mom knitted lovely soft pale pink neck scarves for each little girl as a gift. Though it's certainly not cold, Pooh Bear wore it for the afternoon. Love is a sweet thing.