Every Monday night after dinner, my daughter dawns her tights and leotard, throws tap shoes and ballet slippers into a backpack and the three of us converge upon the local rec. center while Daddy goes to class. It's a pretty normal routine except that lately one of the other mothers has been bringing her entire litter with her. Just to set you up; the one in the dance class is the oldest (5 years). There's a smaller munchkin, a smaller-than-the-last-munchkin and the tiniest, teensiest little rug rat of them all is this funny little girl in diapers with small bones and big curious eyes who walks around the entire time like a drunken midget. She's extremely mobile and extremely tiny. In fact she looks like a baby version of Mr. Potato Head because she has little arms and legs sticking out of the normal, one year old, well-fed, torso. She doesn't talk so much as mumbles, gurgles and spits with the occasional squeal of delight, very reminiscent of a drunken, "WOooo Hooooo!!"
Last night she toddled around, very unstable but determined to stay in the party. She fell numerous times just because she wasn't concentrating on standing, tripped over her mommy's leg completely unfazed, followed a trail of cheerios left by her sister, tried to find her own cherrios among her brother's crayons and stared a large man down until he finally looked her way then she gurgled at him awkwardly. We were all embarrassed for her. I would bet she even pissed herself later in the evening. Tsk. Tsk. Don't worry world! I did the right thing and told her mom to CUT HER OFF! No more Mai Tai's for that one! It's so sad to watch a hot mess realize she can't handle the bottle!
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