I've been to the ballet enough times that I might need two hands to count, although if I just used one hand and counted the hand as one and the fingers as five additional I think I might be covered. That's a long winded way to say I don't get to the ballet that often. Yet, last night that is exactly what I did and I was good at it too see. 

As I sat there feeding my daughter one piece of pre-packed candy (saves $, thanks Kristi) per dance I realized that (sadly?) the only reason I was there was to impress a girl. My daughter... and maybe my wife. I can also say with quite certainty that the last time I went to a ballet was also to impress a girl, as was the time before that. The other times I'm sure I was simply too young to have a choice and was forced to go under the authoritarian guise of "culture". 

So let us compare two ballets. One attended by 18 year old Steve and his date, and one by older Steve and his date.

  • Did both dress to impress? Yes. (sorry no photo of 18 year old Steve)
  • Did both open doors and car doors through the duration of the evening? Yes. 
  • Did both do a good job of pretending to like the ballet to impress his date? Yes. 

If I can be so bold, I'd like to say I was probably an excellent dates on both occasions. I had to chuckle at my realization that I was really only there because I thought it would impress my date... but then I saw the look on my 2nd date's face, my daughter. She was thrilled to see dancers on stage, listening to the music while watching the movements, dancing and singing on her own in her chair. She was thrilled. I was thrilled to see her enjoying it so much. After the ballet, as a good date would, I took my princess out for hot cocoa. Then it was back to the house for bed. Hopefully older Steve showed his little girl what a loving father should, and I hope when some daring young man comes to my front porch he treats her the same way. Unless he shows up in a  red sports car with a soft top, pierced ears, tattoos, a hair cut worthy of Edward Scissor hands and jeans with holes in them (ESPECIALLY if he bought them that way). Then he'll just have to speak with my friend Easton and try again when he cleans up. 

 

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