And there she crawled on my lap...nose against my nose (with some pressure), eyes fixed in mine and then, very soft:
'What's up, "snoepeke"?" - something like little candy, but untranslatable I guess.
"Daddy, I would like to dance."
"Even better. On YouTube?"
"Next recording daddy makes?"
There she changed position, upright now, one solid rock of self confidence, nodding her head, thinking how I could have guessed that so rapidly.
The conversation changed. Now the negotiations went so smoothly, with a quick surrender of the other party, some own conditions came on the table.
"Will it be a long piece?"
"Hmm. Not sure. Don't think so."
I put my hands on a small distance.
"Daddy, that's for baby's, I want to know how long."
"Well, five, six minutes. Maximum."
"How long is that?"
"Less than half your playtime in school."
She was about to leave my lap, but she thought on something.
"If I get tired underway, I just stop dancing, ok?"
"And if I am very tired, I quit and go to bed, ok?'
And there she went. Directing the lives of the six young cats we recently got as an unexpected extension of our family.
And looking to the video now myself, I see my little daughter rapidly growing. She is not any more that innocent little girl that, unaware of any camera, like in the Clementi fugue. And even not any more the girl of the recent Pachelbel ciaconna, in which she still completely remained in her own world while dancing. Here she still is by times, but you see already the very first signs of the young lady in her, aware of what is going on.
She had planned to go to ballet lessons at the beginning of this school year, but that didn't work out. But in stead she recently found the old music book of Sofie -who I never got to study music - asking if I could teach her "the notes". And now we have sat already a few times behind the clavichord.
And of course she's doing great. What else had you expected me to say... :-)
Thank you all for your ongoing support!
Wim & Anja