Rarely have I felt like more of an idiotic failure as a parent than when performing the presumably simple task of . . .
picking ballet pictures.
See, for ballet pictures, the kids are all dressed the same. They wear the same socks. Their hair is the same. And they have identical makeup on – enough makeup on these little five year olds to qualify them for several Vegas auditions, I might add.
And every one of them has their print plastered on the wall at the dance studio and it was my task to pick out her photo and order some $30 enlargements. You know, just to put the icing on the cake because ballet hasn’t already cost me FOUR BILLION DOLLARS this year.
Now, having never seen my daughter in makeup in the first place, and having the entire troupe done up the same, when I arrived to pick out her photo, this is approximately what the wall looked like to me:
I’ve come to pick out a photo of my own daughter and . . . I don’t know which one she is.
Now, just to be clear, I am a very involved parent.
I spend a great deal of time with my kids. I take them places, I hang out with them every chance I get, I change diapers and I read to them every night.
I KNOW WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE
But I probably stared at that damned wall for 5 full minutes, straining and struggling to pick out a photo of my own daughter.
So I finally picked it, paid for it, and a couple of months later the enlargements arrived.
So did I get it right?
Did I pick the right little ballerina?
How the hell should I know? They all look the same to me.