Thursday. Dance Class.
Tights, pink, tap shoes, ballet shoes, snack, water, change of cloths. All accounted for. Hairbrush? Got it. Costume from the recital to return it? In hand. Wife on the way from work? She’ll be here in 5 minutes.
It makes me feel like the Secret Service preparing for a Presidential trip, and I love the chaos.
That’s all for today, a short one. Podcast to follow in a few days!
Cheers,
-B.K.
bones on display 