Saturday night

by - 8:09 AM

nutcracker1

 

Once upon a time I wanted to take ballet lessons. I really just wanted a tutu. That phase passed and I moved onto other things. But if there was some small remaining lingering little part of me that still wanted to dance on pointe shoes, it died never to return after saturday night.

 

nutcracker2

 

viewer discretion advised, especially if you don’t like looking at toes.

 

nutcracker3

 

The little girls dressing room was kinda  how I imagined it would be.

 

nutcracker4

 

In the big girls dressing room it looked like they'd been through some kind of foot torture for confessions to crimes they’d never committed.

Oh, wow, your toes get bruised from dancing?

No, well, only because I forgot to trim my toenails .

I decided not to ask any more. I could see the Second skin, the tiger balm, the Band-Aids, tape, gel thingy, and fuzzies all being used by each dancer in her own special routine to bundle her toes up in the least painful way possible so she can go out again and do what she love to do.

 

nutcracker5

 

 

nutcracker6

 

Yeah, I now think being a gingerbread,

 

ballet battle

 

or a mouse

or a soldier

would be just fine.

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