And it all begins with a little mouse. *** Photo: S Jones 2006
Ten years ago, my four-year old daughter and I were extremely excited about a pending trip downtown to enjoy Houston Ballet’s rendition of our perennial favorite, The Nutcracker. Our family had only been living in Houston for about six months, but one of the first things we did was to enroll our baby girl in ballet classes at Margo Marshall studios. We had known since she first donned a tutu, at eighteen months, that ballet was her thing. Our pretty princess twirled and tiptoed in her sleep.
Our daughter had already taken dance lessons for two years, in our previous hometown, Austin, and she already had attended two Nutcracker performances of Ballet Austin. This toddler was no novice to the art of ballet or to theater performances. She scoffed at any seat beyond mid-orchestra level and had many ticket stubs in her tiny sequined purse, shaped like a ballet slipper.
We met a nice mother and daughter at the new preschool and the girls got along so well (twirling and tiptoeing on the playground each day) that we were invited to join them for The Nutcracker. They bought the tickets, picked us up and we scurried downtown in our finest holiday apparel for an elegant evening at the theatre.
Sharon is a community college administrator, former special education teacher, wife of 17 years and mother of two school-age children in northwest Houston. Her primary interests are family-inclusive culture and arts, travel, politics, historical literature, Texas Longhorns and all things Disney.