Last night we had the pleasure of attending the Dance Festival for the elementary school. The Dance Festival has been in existence since approximately the presidency of Abraham Lincoln. It is held in the gym of the high school which sounds like a big area. Until you try to cram in all the school children, their parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and anything else that happens to be breathing within a 100 mile radius of the school. Then it's not so big. People are packed in so closely that you are sitting on your neighbor's lap while another neighbor is sitting on yours. If you were going to catch a communicable disease, this is the place you'd catch it.
And the heat. Sweet angel of death, the heat. After sitting in the gym for an hour, the Sahara Desert would feel like a meat locker. You are sweating so much that you have to peel your clothes off you when you have the chance to stand up.
Thankfully, you are rewarded for your suffering. One highlight is the first graders who do the Chicken Dance each year. It is undeniably adorable. Adorable.
And then the finale of the dance festival is the kindergartners who perform a song called Baby Eagle as they are dressed up like little eagles. Then, during the last few minutes of the song - they hula hoop. This has been the finale since the days of Adam. And seeing a big gaggle of kindergartners dressed up as eagles hula hooping is simply the cutest thing you have ever seen. I know. You think you've seen some pretty cute things. But unless you've seen Baby Eagle, you've never seen the cutest thing ever.
I commend the teachers and staff who are able to pull this whole thing together. Just the thought of the Dance Festival must cause an anxiety attack.