Tiny Dancers

What feels like 26 days (but was actually only 2 weeks) ago, the girls took a dance class at Grandma Lori's awesome studio.
There was twirling and spinning and pointed toes and arabesques and more cuteness than I could possible describe in a 400 page novel.

There is something about a little girl in a tutu that makes me want to roll her up, smother her in whip cream, top her with a cherry, and eat her all gone.
Just sayin'.

I am not ashamed to admit that I teared up while watching them dance. Had you been there I can almost guarantee that you.... ok, you wouldn't have cried. But I SERIOUSLY couldn't help it.

And then, in the midst of a perfectly perfect dance class, tragedy struck.
I saw it coming.
Luke and I looked at each other in horror.
He gasped and then slowly shook his head.
I said a silent prayer.
But it did no good.

The girls turned into dogs.
(If you've never seen this happen, you don't understand.)
They are dogs.
Barking, crawling, eating off the floor, and licking each other... dogs.
They will NOT be persuaded otherwise.

There was nothing we could do but laugh.

So that's what we did.


On a totally unrelated note, I'm dying to tell you all about our incredible O.C. adventures. But the cyber demons have conspired against me and are determined to thwart my blogging attempts.
You wouldn't even believe the stuff they've pulled.

But I will overcome.

However, if my blogging is less than spectacular in the next few weeks, blame the cyber hellions.