Did not see this coming. Mason came home from school a few weeks ago with materials to register for classes for 7th grade. Yes, I said 7th grade. We briefly reviewed them (not with painstaking intensity of his first year of middle school: aka-mommy tears and small panic attack). He vaguely mentioned wanting to do something with a dance class. Knowing Mason, I mildly agreed knowing it would be a brief stint in choreography. I was wrong. Not only did my child arrange to stay after school for tryouts and sign up for the dance class next year, but he also made the squad. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one calling it a squad. I blame Bring It On (the musical). As of last week, he is an official member of the guys only Bradley Dance Crew. He's been practicing his moves: in the car, in the kitchen, on the porch, on the couch, in his room, in my room, at restaurants, in parking lots, in the hallway, on the stairs.....he hasn't stopped moving (not that he has ever been very still for very long).
I'm proud of him. I like that he will take risks and do things that not every little (big) dude will do. He's brave and social and resilient. I adore these qualities in him. Shake yo groove thing, Mase.
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