So I was perusing the bulletin board outside of our local grocery store when I found this sign with the words "preschool dance class" and a phone number. On a whim, I called them. I'd been thinking Hazel might like to take a dance class, and frankly I could use a little break, so I took Hazel to a trial class. She LOVED it and did really well for her first time. Somewhere in my conversation with the teacher--who is as kind and professional and sweet as they come--the word "clogging" was mentioned, as in "we do a little clogging, a little tap, a little ballet..." CLOGGING? So I just thought maybe clogging was an OPTION. A choice among many types of classes. Then I noticed the white high-top tennis shoes with loose taps nailed to the bottoms sitting on a shelf next to many trophies with titles like "clog champions 2006" on them. Now, I had never seen a clogging tennis shoe before. This has got to be a hard core clogging operation, I thought. Then the teacher taught Hazel how to "chug." I'm one choreographed dance to "Elvira" away from having a little clogger in the house! So, what do I do? I mean, on the one hand, if Hazel likes to clog, I should just let her do it, right? Who am I to project my hatred of clogging onto my offspring? On the other hand--and I hope I am not offending anyone out there--it's CLOGGING. I would not allow Hazel to clog for the same reasons why I don't allow her to wear mismatched clothes, or go too long without a bath. Isn't it my respsonsibility as a mother to keep my children as safe from humiliation and nerdiness as I possibly can? Life is hard enough! Why not give them a head start?
I asked my mother what I should do and she refused to even discuss it. "Listen, I lived in Kentucky,"she told me, "no child from my loins will ever clog." I mean, for now I will keep Hazel in the class. She loves it, and the kids spend more time going on a bear hunt and running around the room than they do learning steps. But once she reaches the age of accountability--maybe even before--I will need to put my foot down.
My very tasteful, very quiet, foot.
I wish I could clog. I'm sure Hazel will be fine. I took tap, ballet and jazz and none lasted more than a year. And look at me now :)
ReplyDeleteI think your husband once owned an auto with a bumper sticker that said "I love clogging"...I'm not even kidding!!!
ReplyDeleteI say quit. Before you know it you'll be sitting through her recital with a fake smile on your face. (That's what we did at your recitals.) This can't be going anywhere good. Giddy up a oom papa mow mow.
ReplyDeleteRedneck tap dancing is more like it. She may take a shine to it, but by the time she's 7 or 8 and realizes that nobody cool clogs then she'll want to quit for sure.
ReplyDeleteIn my old ward there was a lady who taught clogging in her basement. Al the girls in the neighborhood took it. But I simply refused. Over my dead body. So my daughter felt bed, but I feel like I was just doing her a favor.
Cami is right on the "I love clogging" bumper sticker. Maybe you can get another made for Hazel in the future.
ReplyDeleteAmen. Out with the clogging. I performed with a dance team in college, and when I found out I'd have to clog to "move up," I moved out. Best of luck!
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