The Next Fred Astaire

Toby is a bit of a man’s man. Or, perhaps I should say, a LOT of a man’s man.   He single handedly put to rest for me the whole nurture vs nature debate by demonstrating, from the innocent age of 4 months old an ingrained and intense interest in balls, cars and all things sports.  To this day, my son has a stereotypically keen interest in anything and everything to do with sports, speed and competition.

And he likes his girls. 

In fact, he LOVES his girls. 

It was actually this love of girls that set us watching “So You Think You Can Dance” in the first place.  The first season we watched, Toby was only about 3 years old and he would ask me to fast forward through all the male dancer's routine; “I like to watch the girls dancing better, “ he would say, “They are much prettier.”  But he also loved to watch the tap dancing.

TAP DANCING!??!

Ever since we started watching the show at the age of 3 he has had an affinity for tap.  Family Wedding?  Tap Dancing.  After dinner dance parties at the Henry household?  Tap Dancing.  Catchy commercial jingles while watching TV?  Toby is up and on the floor, doing his best Ginger Davis impression.

I have NO IDEA where he gets it from.  I just kept waiting for this phase to pass while Toby continued to hone his moves and convince me that he’s the next Fred Astaire.

But this Christmas it came to a head.  As we sat down to put all of his hockey games, hockey practices and ski lessons on the calendar he asked with earnest enthusiasm WHEN we were going to enroll him in TAP dancing!?!?!

He’s a busy guy, so scheduling ONE MORE THING into his life wasn’t going to be easy, but he’s consistent and determined so I figured I had to at least give his budding enthusiasm a chance.  I called around and found all of ONE dance academy in Collingwood that has Tap dance lessons for 7 year olds.

I sent a tentative email.

Would they, this late in the year, accept a little boy who was keen?  Could he just come and observe the first class without committing?

Yes, they replied, they would be HAPPY to have a boy in the class.  He could definitely come to the first class but would definitely have to participate.  Did he have his own tap shoes?

It was the last line that made me realize how novice we are to this – of COURSE he doesn’t have his own TAP shoes!  We were allowed to come “try it out” anyways…

And so we set off this past Thursday night, for Toby’s first dance lesson.   Tap-shoe-less, of course.

You know those moments you get when all of a sudden you realize with CLAIRVOYANT maternal knowledge that you have just embarked on a GIANT parenting FAIL???

Yup.  One of those.

The Collingwood Dance Academy was no joke.  Most of the kids were in matching uniforms with tights, dance shorts, leotards and, of course, tap shoes.   And by “kids” I mean girls.  (Two of whom were in Toby’s class at school.) Toby stood out like a sore thumb in his running shoes, track pants and hockey shirt.  He was pale as a ghost and griped my hand as I left him to the mercy of his new tap dance teacher.  I wasn’t allowed to watch the class but I certainly had no intention of leaving the studio. 

What on EARTH had I just subjected him to…?

The hour-long class seemed to take forever as I sat there patiently waiting. Every now and then the director of the academy would come over and offer me some reassuring thoughts about how great it would be for them to finally have a boy in their academy.  They had even picked out a uniform for him that they were all set to order once I gave them the go ahead.

I smiled back at her, disguising my inside knowledge that Toby would NEVER go for this kind of gig; he was a boys boy through and though.  It was one thing to “tap” away in front of your parents but surely doing it in front of a group of matching-leotarded-girls was not going to be his thing.  I only hoped I hadn’t traumatized his ego for life…But I wanted to be kind about it - - she didn’t know Toby.  I would let her down easily.  I decided I would quietly escort Toby out of the studio and send her an email later telling her what he thought of the class.

And then the class ended.

Toby was the first one out, bounding with new found grace and enthusiasm, the leader of his new group of tap dancing peers,

“MOMMY I LOVED IT!” he said to me loudly, RIGHT In front of the director, “Can we come back NEXT week?”

 

I quickly shushed him so we could talk about this together in the private luxury of our frigid car but not before his teacher had a chance to point out to me that she LOVED having a boy in her class and that Toby was really quite remarkably coordinated and was SURE to make a fantastic tap dancer.

“OK…” I said once we’d gotten into the car, “What did you REALLY think?”

“It was awesome.” He said very seriously,  “I’m a VERY good tap dancer” he added with sincerity.  (His choice in activities may be varied but his sense of self-assurance is a constant…)

I told him I was proud of him but reminded him of the seriousness of this commitment.  IF he ACTUALLY wanted to continue on with tap dance he would have to wear the uniform they gave him, attend classes regularly (and not drop out if he got bored of it after a few weeks) and participate in the end of year dance show.

“Of course, “ he said with the maturity of…(a male tap dancer??)…“But I will continue under ONE condition”

(Why did I suddenly feel like a Dance Agent??)

“Ok” I braced myself, “What is it?”

“I will NOT wear tights.”

Condition met.

And there we have it.  My Toby – the manliest of all boys-boys is officially enrolled in Tap Dance.

Don’t you worry….there WILL be a video to follow….just as soon as I buy him some tap shoes…

Toby on Week #2 of Tap Dance - starting to look the part a bit more...