Christmas: Day 9

~ ~ On the ninth day of christmas my true love gave to me nine ladies dancing, eight maids a-milking, seven swans a-swimming, six geese a-laying, five golden rings, four colly birds, three french hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree. ~ ~

     The next day I received a letter from my love informing me that I now had responsibility for nine female dancers. Three were ballerinas, three were hip-hop dancers, and the last three were lyrical dancers. I sunk to my knees in my living room as I read the letter. This was too much. The letter explained that I had become their boss, and they would answer to me. I cried. The birds in my living room squawked, and I dumped some seed in their cages and then cried some more. What was I going to do with them? I couldn’t pay them, I wasn’t any sort of boss--what was I to do? After over a week of my love’s crazy ideas for gifts, I was nearly fed up. After I got home from work, the dancers showed up at my apartment. I invited them all in for coffee and explained my situation through tears. They were very polite, even though they kept sharing secret glances like they knew something I didn’t. They explained they would be teaching at a dance studio a few blocks away, but that they would be available for me at any time. Exhausted, I tried my best to make sense of the situation. It was impossible. The dancers assured me they’d stay out of my hair, but I was still confused. Why did my love think I had need for all these birds, eight cows and women, and now nine dancers? I'd never showed any interest in dancing--what was I do to with nine dancers who offered to put on a private show for me alone? What was my love up to?

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Let's take a moment to appreciate that gown in the clipart. It's beautiful--on the other hand, I wonder if the lady in the picture can fit through doorways...?

I promise all this is building up to something, even though it's cringey (cringey? cringy? whatever. there is cringe.). Hang in there for three more days.

Thanks for the, like, 15 of you who still bother to read this. You bunch of weirdos. I love you. <3

--Zoë Wingfeather