After dinner

Little Dog is showing me and Mr. Dog his dance. It involves jumping and spinning before he touches down. He plants a hand on the ground and kicks his feet in the air. It is energetic and pretty fun to watch. Yesterday he demonstrated his "Potty Dance." This is what we call the uncomfortable fidgeting before he finally announces he needs to use the restroom. It was more footwork and crotch grabbing, a bit like Michael Jackson, but different. We watch his new dance, highly amused. After he dances a bit, I say, "Do you remember Uncle Stacy? He's a dancer. He gets paid to dance. Cool, right?"
"Does he do beautiful dance?" he asks suspiciously almost sneering as he says beautiful, "Like ballerinas do?"
"No, he does modern dance," I answer, not sure if he considers this beautiful dance or not, but not wanting to lump it in with the object of his disdain.
"Do you like beautiful dance?" asks Mr. Dog, amused by distinction of styles.
"No. It's for girls." His preschool, housed in a former public school, shares a building with a ballet school. We have walked past the auditorium, now a dance studio, filled with girls in leotards and hair pulled back into tight buns. I'm sure this is the source of this concept.
"So, what kind of dance do you do?" I ask
"I do cool dance. It's for everyone." Well, as long as it's inclusive.

A few minutes earlier Big Dog was working on basic dog training commands with the dogs. "Sit!"
And Nikita sits. He gives her a treat.
"Shake!"
And Nikita meekly offers her paw. He gives her a treat.
"Stay!"
And Nikita stay seated as he backs away from her. Three steps back he stops, pauses and Nikita breaks her stay. She walks up to him and sits.
He immediately gives her a treat. Beaming with pride he turns to us and says, "Just when I was about tell her to come, she came to me! She read my mind!"

And all of this cuteness happened within a span of 15 minutes. Who needs TV? All that I can say is I must be the luckiest mom in the world.
So what were your kids up to last night?