A strange thing happened to my husband and I while the kids stayed the week at Grammy's - we had nothing to talk about. We did chat about our day and people who got on our nerves but other than that, there was not much else. To fill the quiet during dinner, we inevitably started reminiscing about the boys...the boys. Sigh. Four nights of romantic possibilities and what did we do? Watched a video of the boys' ballet recital.
"Wait a minute, did you say...boys...ballet?"
Yes. Our boys take ballet lessons. They do not dress in pink or wear a tutu. And since our four-year old is quite an exhibitionist, his last exposure revealed all his boy parts were intact.
Why ballet? Well, I confess, sometimes I do things for shock value. But opting to teach them ballet, as opposed to a more typical boys pursuit like Karate, was not to shock people. The method to this madness was to expose them to a classic art before all the misguided preconceptions by ignorant influences had a chance to set in. So far, it's worked.
Zuki, our six-year old, has been taking dance lessons since he was three. You'd think he'd be some kind of Nureyev but no - he's kind of goofy. Actually, all the boys in his class plie, coupe and Pas de chat more like the Marx Brothers - boys will be boys. They all enjoy it nonetheless and work hard when it's crunch time. As a result, they gave a stellar performance at their last recital. Yes sir, there was no nose-picking, fart noises or wayward tongues - just cleanly executed steps. I was one proud parent.
I'm also proud of my husband who never once questioned their ballet endeavor. Those who know him, know he can be quite the barbarian. Who do you think taught the boys how to pick their nose with circus-like fanfare or fart-quake the floorboards? Yeah, my man is about as sophisticated as a pro-wrestler with a truck driver's vocabulary. He's gross - but I love him.
He could've raised a stink about it like some dads I know. But I trust that my husband is comfortable with who he is. He couldn't care less what other people think about him and if the boys get their confidence from his example, that would be a good thing. There are enough people in the world willing to judge, criticize and shove them around - why be one of them.
So, allow me to wrap this up with those last words commemorating my husband before he does something disgusting and makes me change my mind. I'm glad that in this household, homophobia is not an issue. The after-effects of taco night, however, is another thing but I won't get into that.