I went to Kelly's dance recital tonight and it brought back lots of memories. Plastering my face with blue eyeshadow, black eyeliner complete with cat eye lines and red lipstick. Walking into the studio every week hoping that our costumes would be sitting in a box in the corner. Finally trying them on and worrying about what my parents would say about the midriff-baring, skintight outfits. I miss it, somewhat.
But it also made me realize how silly recitals really are. What's the point of putting on a white one-piece uniform with flared legs and a sailor cap and moving to the beat of a techno rendition of "In the Navy?" Or paying $50 for a costume that makes you look like a fluff ball? It's strange, yet somewhat endearing. And I'm sure when I have a daughter, I'll be watching her do the same thing, and loving it.
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