Oh how she loves to twirl. I bought her a tutu for RM20. I squealed with delight seeing her wearing it. Ya.. I squealed..she was just, "meh.. a poke-y skirt".
The first day she wore it to the park. She twirled so much she was giddy. I smiled just as much. "Look me! Look me!" she would say. Her hands up above her head, a true ballerina pose.
Oh how I looked at her. She was beautiful with her wispy hair blowing in the wind. Her face smug, believing that she is dancing..performing on stage.
The innocence of a child, before MTV, before Miley Cyrus ruins it for us.
Sometimes she asks me to dance with her. "Come, dance with me!" she beckons. Her head cocks slightly with a well-rehearsed smile, hand outstretches. I can't say no, can I? And so I dance. She happiest when I carry her and swing her around. "More! More! she says giggling.
I only have a tiny wish that she stops asking me to dance in public. While she looks cute, I am on the other hand.. you know.. Let's just say, I was born with 3 left feet with opposable toes.
Of late, she has started dancing Modern dance. I think that's what you call it. She rolls on the floor..gets up..hands outstretches pointing to the ceiling..and legs swiftly being lifted up at a difficult angle. That sorta expressive melodramatic moves.
Which ever.. continue dancing, if it brings you joy, lolly.
