Shelby skipped her usual ballet/tap class this week as she recovered from that evil cold virus circulating the preschools-and now my house. I informed her that she could attend a make-up class on Saturday if she felt up to it. "Oooh, I want to go to the make-up class, Mommy!" she gushed. Last night, we discussed our weekend plans over dinner. John asked Shelby what she had planned for the weekend and she was quick to reply, "I'm going to make-up class tomorrow, Daddy. Will you take me to my make-up class?" John was caught off guard and could do nothing but embrace her offer, "Um, would you like me to take you to your class?" Note that the 9:30 am class would cut John's Saturday morning surf ritual back by a few hours. Shelby couldn't have said it better, "Yes, Daddy, because you never take me to make up class!" He was hooked and he knew it. Later, when we discussed the new leotard and tights she could wear to her class Shelby adamantly proclaimed, "Mommy, we're not dancing in class! We're putting on make up."
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