Maggie, my five year old, takes a P.E. class at Taylor University. It really is a wonderful thing. They need to give their teachers lab experience in teaching P.E. to kids, and P.E. is probably one of those most neglected areas in homeschooling -- so voila...they offer the class for free to homeschoolers every Spring.
I take the opportunity during the class to spend some rare alone time with me and Chris, and this week we ran off to Fresh Market. I'm not even going to go into the situation that came up (I've blocked it out because of frustration levels), but I was fifteen minutes late in picking up Maggie.
When I came into the gym, a few of the P.E. student teachers and their prof were gathered around my daughter, who was hula-hooping, quite adeptly. The guy teacher she has would make an attempt and the hula hoop would fall to the floor. "No, you've gotta move this way." Maggie was saying as she ground her hips in a circle as adeptly as Shakira ever could, causing a couple of the other girls to laugh about how perfectly she did it (one of those things she picked up in Vacation Bible School, doncha know).
As we were walking out to the car, I asked "so, you were showing your teacher how to hula hoop?" To which she emphatically replied " Well, I was TRYING to, but he just couldn't get it."