Our boys are gifted modern dancers.
I know, right? Amazing, you're thinking. I wish I could move so expressively and with such abandon, such vulnerability.
Sometimes Caedmon obeys the whims of his nonexistent Irish lineage and breaks out in a jig.
Or, OR, I've reached such a subterranean level of despair that none of my children will ever be dancers that I'm concocting choreographed fantasies where only basketball exists.
Oh, well. That last photo still got me like