Dance, Mo, Dance

The artist formerly known as Frau Lobster signed Mo up for a dance class. It's Sunday afternoon, so I'm the one taking her most weeks. I should have done a better job of prepping her but I'd almost forgotten it entirely and just barely got her to her first class.

She was digging it. As I spied through the door, she did more following along than I'd expected. Which isn't to say she was in lock step the whole way through. She'd start out doing what the others were and then decide it was a logical transition to laying on the floor or charming herself in the big mirror.

The biggest surprise, to me, was when they were sitting in a circle and went around introducing themselves. I figured she'd bite her nails and give them the silent treatment, but she said her name, clear as a bell, when it was her turn. No elaboration, just her name, but still, it was a social queue I didn't think she'd get.

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But then, she doesn't do for me what she does for, say, her teachers at school. The other day I heard she recited all fifty state capitols, but when I asked her to do it she'd only say, "Social studies." When I asked if she meant she could only do that in social studies class, she said, "Yes!"

It'd be a good thing if I could get her to uncompartmentalize some of the stuff she learns at school and apply it to the larger world. Isn't that what we have schools for?