Growing up I was always a very intelligent child, constantly spouting out pieces of genius that always seemed to amaze my parents. They never would have guessed that a small child could be so intuitive, creative and thoughtful. Ok, that's not really true (mom and dad, please stop laughing), but like most kids I did sometimes provide my family with entertainment from the not-so- intelligent things that I would say.
One of these times happened when I was pretty young, probably about 3 or 4, not too long after I had been enrolled in dance classes. My sister Brittany was enrolled in gymnastics classes at the time, so we both went to an activity that involved the same article of clothing: a leotard.
Being the genius youngster that I was, I asked my mom the question that I was just dying to know: if my uniform was called a leotard, why was my sister's uniform also called a leotard? It just didn't make sense to me.. if mine was a leotard, then hers should have been a Britt-tard, right?
In my mind I thought it was a Leah-tard, so therefore my sister would wear a Britt-tard because we each had our own "tards". That made perfectly logical sense to my 3-4 year old self (and it still kind of does, actually). I thought that everyone in dance, gymnastics or any other activity that involved a leotard each got their own "tard" to wear, making it an "insert name here - tard".
Needless to say my parents got a kick out of that one. My sister should be grateful that I was nice enough to let her keep wearing my "tards" as she continued to do gymnastics through the years. You're welcome, Britt-tard.
No comments:
Post a Comment