skinny genes

I guess you could say it all started on Pumpkin’s second day of dance class.

The first day, I was wearing a long, shapeless sweater—we all have that one. The second day, I wore a new form-fitting sweater and my skinnies tucked into my boots.

As I joined my daughter in her parent-toddler Dance and Movement class, jumping, crawling, waving my arms–I took a peek at my reflection in the wall-to-wall mirror, and felt a hint of pride. Two kids later and I still got it, my brain crowed.

But pride goeth before the fall, as they say.

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