About 13 seconds into Alexis' dance recital rehearsal, I decided it would be easier to get a cat to sit quietly in an auditorium than it was to get Mila to sit there. She was a wiggly, giggly, whiny, LOOK AT THE SHINY mess all through the hour it took for Alexis to practice her performances.
So, obviously, we took Mila to the actual recital. It was such a good idea! Three hours! Of sitting! Quietly! Easy!
Ahem.
The truth of the matter is that the husband would rather be stabbed in the face with chopsticks than sit through a dance recital. He requested Mila's presence specifically so he would have an excuse to spend the recital in the lobby area. There's a giant TV that shows the performance out there, snacks, and the ability to pace. If you've ever met the man, you know that pacing thing is key. If he can walk back and forth until he has worn a path in the floor, he's much happier.
He sort of got his way. He did manage to spend a fair amount of the recital not crammed into a little seat. Before that, though, Mila sat through the performances. Mesmerized.
Seriously.
Mila sat completely silently while staring at the action on the stage for ten performances. TEN. By the sixth or seventh one, she had even figured out that we're supposed to clap when the music pauses. She so very happily watched all of the bigger kids do their thing. She probably would have made it through more performances if she hadn't been going up against nap o'clock.
If there was ever any doubt that Mila was meant to be Alexis' little sister, there it is. The proof. When a baby starts out life able to enjoy dance performances, she best be paired up with a dancer. Like peanut butter and jelly.
Now if only we could figure out a way to teach the husband how to sit for ten performances without complaining.