“You want fame? Well fame costs and right here is where you start paying, in sweat,” that’s what Debbie Allen yelled every week in the early 80s on the popular musical television drama that most of watched. And although, my daughter has never seen the show, she obviously thinks she’s the next Cocoa.
Since she is now 3 years and some change, and in her third dance season, she is no longer enrolled in toddler and toes, but pre-ballet with two other former classmates. With this new status comes parent drop off, which took me a few weeks to get used to, but I’ve adjusted. The downside to dropping her off instead of staying and participating in the class is, I really don’t get to see how she’s doing. So I was overly excited at the Fall Observation class that allows parents and visitors to bring cameras, video equipment and whatever else you can think of to make it “special.”
I invited grandparents and sudo-aunties to the occasion and pulled out her handmade tutu her Godmother made for her. She has almost a whole bench of members of her fan club present; me, her daddy, baby brother, my mom and Auntie Sherri are all in tow. They open with their traditional warm up song and all miniature ballerinas are up on their toes dancing around. Right before the song ends, Morgan runs to the middle of the dance floor, crosses both arms with a clear attitude and plops down, crisscross applesauce. One of the two instructors runs to her aid and kneels down to survey the problem.
I’m glad she got to her first, because I may have just yoked her up. I see a short exchange and then Ms. Ericka stands and announces in my direction that “Morgan is upset because no one took her picture.” Are you serous? She just interrupted the entire performance at the top of the class because no one took her picture? Now, I have to tell you that all of her guests had camera phones out and on, but apparently we neglected to have her POSE for a picture.
Speechless, I pick up the “real” camera, point it in her direction and hit the button until a flash appears. At that moment, she smiles, joins the rest of her class and puts on one heck of a show. As we exit the classroom Ms. Ericka says “that’s a true sign of a diva, she can’t perform until someone takes her picture.” My husband and I just look at each other and laugh and for the next several minutes we are trying to figure out which one of us to blame for this attitude.
Without a clear culprit, we just chalk it up to Morgan being Morgan. And despite my personal opinions about this over the top Diva moment, I am mighty glad I had a camera with a flash ready to take her picture.