the nutcracker wannabe

So, like many little girls, I wanted to be a prima ballerina.  Come on, who else wouldn’t want torn up toes, knots in their feet, hair pulled and sprayed so far back your face hurts…. in exchange for those beautiful long pink tutu’s?  They look flawless under the spotlight, and beautiful men throw you in the air and never drop you (unlike your larger but angry younger brother does when he is mad at you for putting nerd candy in his bed and telling him they are mouse droppings).

Every year mom took us to see The Nutcracker at the Fox in STL.  I loved getting dressed up and waiting for the curtains and the beautiful music. It was an annual start to holiday heaven.

There was some curiosity about why the male leads worse such tight (tights) (and without the unitard they give to male wrestlers), but perhaps that is why the tickets cost so much, and the majority of the audience are women.

Regardless, I loved the ballet and wanted to name my daughter, Clara. My husband at the time was not in love with the name, but I kept in my heart for down the road.  (for the record, my daughter doesn’t like the name we chose in addition to Clara, so I was screwed unless she was baby X and could name herself once a tween).

It’s 11 years later, and my sweet daughter and I have decided it’s time for a new pup.  She picks the litter of tiny lhasapoos from this cool Posh Puppy rescue in downtown- everything is pink, and I’m thinking I need to be a good mom and let her name the pup, but how can I politely encourage “Clara”?

Well, needless to say the pup my girl chooses is a boy, and while I explained that neutering makes him gender neutral, she was not buying the sale for “Clara”.

We came home with ‘Kenny Rogers’.