First Recital

Mom had this idea that my older brother and I would grow up to be a song and dance team . . . I don't know how my younger brother escaped her nefarious plan, but he never had to dress like that.  I'm guessing I was 6 or 7 in this picture.  Until this Christmas, I didn't know that it existed.  I think it was from my first ever dance recital . . . I don't know who the girl is (which is ok, since she probably doesn't remember me either).

Most of my memories of this momentous event are rather vague.  I remember that mom made the boys' costumes; they were black satin and felt really stupid.  And I remember shielding my eyes with both hands during our number, trying to see out over the footlights so I could wave at my dad.

See those shiny spots on my toes?  Those are the taps.  They're metal.  And they leave a really neat looking mark on your older brother's shin . . . or on yours, if he gets you first. We only took tap for one year (at least I only remember this one costume).  Then the teacher suggested that our time might be better spent engaged in some other endeavor.  I've told people that she also gave my mom back her money.

I may have made that last part up . . .