For weeks now I've been in a funk. A sucky suck funk of stupid, delusional, crazy, and just plain not smart. I've been wrong, I've been shamed, and I've been just plain clueless. In the middle of that, I went and did something so nuts, so ludicrous, so spectacularly idiotic, that when faced with it last night, even I couldn't believe I had done it.

I bought Alexis and I tickets to the ballet.

Cinderella, to be specific. Because, you know, nothing screams GOOD TIMES like an activity that requires that a 3-year old sit silently watching people on a stage dance to orchestra music. No talking, no singing, just dancing. The best part was that I was soooo smart that I bought tickets for the 8pm showing because the cheap seats were sold out for the afternoon matinee. Surely she would be the epitome of exceptional behavior if I just kept her up waaaay past her bedtime!

I was just asking for a disaster. Clearly.

I didn't get it.

For two and a half hours, Alexis sat quietly in her seat, transfixed by the "secret musicians" and the dancers. She oohed. She aahed. She whispered, "That's really beautiful."

You could have knocked me over with a feather. I. was. stunned.

She was in love. Alexis loved the costumes, she loved the set, she loved the music, and she loved the dancing. She smiled from ear-to-ear all through the entire performance, and I didn't even slip her some happy pills.

Something tells me we have a major performing arts dork on our hands.

I'm OK with that.