I called home last night to talk to Shawn Joaquin, an always recalcitrant phone talker with anyone other than my mom. Last night he was happy to hear from me and make an announcement.
"Mama, I'm a flamingo dancer."
"Wow - where did you see a flamenco dancer?"
"I not SEE a flamingo dancer, I AM a flamingo dancer. Like this."
[sound of shuffling follows]
Who says that sharing So You Think You Can Dance with a three-year old is a bad idea. At least it's not ice dancing.
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