Today was the boys' third ballet class. I'll bet it was the first time Miss Johanna had to tell any of her students to stop body slamming each other.
But that's how boys (at least MY boys) do ballet.
Last week they were having a competition to see who could do the best piroutte. Understand that this had nothing to do with form. It has to do with enthusiastically flinging oneself around as many times as possible before falling down giggling madly.
I heard them counting to see who was turning the most times and walked down the hallway to check it out. Since none of them can really count, the competition quickly turned into an argument which nearly came to blood before I broke it up.
It ended with all of them sitting in time out for hitting and all pouting about how they turned "eleventy times" and did the best.
Somehow when I had three boys I never envisioned refereeing ballet.