To my shock and dismay, Robby actually enjoys his Cotillion classes. I envisioned having to pry him away from his computer, wrangle him into his suit and forcibly contain him in the car before each class. It turns out that he has the dates marked on his calendar and it is something that he eagerly anticipates each month. I've never been so happy to be so wrong about my child!
Yesterday was Robby's holiday Cotillion
dance, an event that he has been looking forward to since September. He
was fidgety and nervous all day, worrying about stepping on a girls feet
and spilling punch on her white gloves. I knew that he was going to be
fine, but Momom reassurances hold little weight these days. By the time
he was ready to go, he was so jittery that I would have sworn he had
consumed a pot of coffee.
When I saw him in his suit I was
taken aback. My little Koopa looked so mature and grown up. I was
excited about his experiencing his first dance, but saddened that my
little buddy was all grown up and doing things on his own. I know that
is the goal of parenting, but it is still painful when it happens.
While I wanted to coax him back into footy pajamas, curl up on the couch
and watch Snoopy Christmas, I gave him a kiss goodbye and encouraged
him to be nice and have fun.
Scott volunteers at the Cotillion
class (gentlemen volunteers were specifically requested) so he was able
to accompany Robby to the dance. While he wasn't allowed inside the
ballroom, he did manage to sneak a few photos. I was somewhat relieved
to see that all of the boys and girls had the same deer caught in the
headlights stunned look on their faces. On the verge of becoming a teen,
in some ways he is still a little boy.