Getting the lass to her dance class has become a trial. Each week I try to get her going a little earlier because of the foot dragging. But the boy’s arrival time on the bus coincides too closely with departure time for her, so she gains the upper hand regardless how early I get her prepped.
All of this is just … weird because, once she finally gets to class, she really enjoys it. Of course, she doesn’t want me to think that.
The Lass: “Dad, I didn’t have fun in my class.”
Me: “But you were jumping and twirling and smiling the whole time.”
The Lass: “That’s not because I was having fun.”
Me: “You were definitely having fun.”
The Lass: “Was nnnoooootttttt”
Me: “You are so OBSTINATE.”
Her reply (naturally): “Am not.”