On Sturdy Legs

Unlike Everything Else

My preference for Elle's classes was almost immediately for gymnastics. It was also a serious program that was fully intended on teaching her what she needed to know to be a successful gymnast, but the drama and stress was lessened. Parents could be in the room or not--most of the time not--and the teacher gave less sharp instructions. After that class on Wednesday, Elle even asked me to take her and another girl from her gymnastics class to the park to play, which I was very happy to do.

Friday was only ballet for her, so we both enjoyed more of a stay at home day that consisted of Elle being shocked at the cartoons which I had never seen and making me sit through several Disney musicals in which I bothered her constantly with a running commentary of the huge mistakes each princess was making. Elle wasn't really one for terribly savoury cooking, but she was happy to use up all the sugar in the house for every other recipe. As a result, our afternoons quickly became a tradition of pouring over cook books in the kitchen; me for something to make for dinner, and her for a new dessert recipe.

Five pm sharp on Friday--third day of watching Elle and Lily--found me amusing Elle terribly as we waited for my crock pot to finish cooking the beef stroganoff recipe I had come up with and for the oven to finish with her apple pie. Elle had been practicing turns in the kitchen with her ballet shoes and a swishy sundress which she wore a leotard under. For the hell of it, I tried one of these turns myself and while I thought I did not half bad, Elle couldn't stop herself from laughing and instantly started acting twice her age in giving me pointers.

I humoured her, so when James walked in with an announcement of, "girls, I'm home!" He found Elle laughing at me with one leg on the counter in an attempt to stretch my iliopsoas.

"I thought you said you stretch?" she laughed. "Daddy!"

I got my foot off the counter as Elle ran to hug her dad. He picked her up and threw her above his head as she squealed with delight. All I could do was smile; I remembered when I was light enough for my dad to do that with me.

"Hey Elle-phant," he said to her and put her down. "Hey, Ari. How was your day?"

"Really fun!" Elle cheered. "We watched The Little Mermaid," I did a theatrical grimaces and Elle glared at me, "and Cinderella."

"Neither of whom make good decisions," I interrupted.

"And Ari loved them both," Elle insisted in a louder voice. "Then we went to the park, and I did some drawings for my recital costume."

I smiled when James looked at me for my recount. I gestured to the crockpot, "dinner is almost done and Elle has apple pie in the oven. Lily is taking a nap," I unclipped the baby monitor from my belt loop, "and the state of the laundry room is significantly less disastrous. I hung up your clothes for you so have fun finding anything."

"Thank you, Ari," he nodded to me. "And when.." He searched for the right word but didn't find it and gestured to the crockpot, "that's done?"

" Right about now. Take it out, let it cool. I have some peaches and cream in the fridge ready to go and biscuits cooling in the toaster oven," I replied promptly.

For the first time that week, James wasn't wearing his usual crisp suit and tie that he normally did. It had been replaced at some point with a tight T-shirt that was taut against his chest and a pair of jeans. After too many years of absurd stories about my dad's own day when the actual events were classified, I didn't think to ask what he had done; something about James's expression made me decide I wouldn't get too much of an answer anyway.

The baby monitor began making sounds that indicated it was time to feed Lily again.

"Let me..." I started to say before I was off up the stairs again to get to her.