Her class finished its performance, and Alice returned to our laps in the audience to watch the next group of preschoolers take their places on stage at last week’s family picnic night. She looked at me and said, “My turn?”
“Oh, your turn is all done, Alice. Now we watch the other kids.”
“You danced. You were the best. I am so, so proud of you.”
I half thought she would freeze up there. Two-year-olds do that, right? And it was a lot of pressure. (Even her grandparents and great-grandmother were watching).
But I should have known better.
In a way, the whole performance sort of encapsulated her personality. She got very quiet and very precise. You could almost see her little mind whirring as she tried to remember the next moves.
A few times, she got ahead of herself.
As anxious tears hopscotched the line of her classmates, Alice seemed unsure of why she was up there. But confident in what was expected of her: The Monkey Mambo.
You owe it to yourself:
“I yike Mucky Mambo,” she said on the way home.
Baby, I yuv Mucky Mambo.