Tallulah just knew she could be a great ballerina–if only she had a tutu.
“And maybe a lesson or two,” her mother said with a wink.
So the next day, Tallulah went to her very first ballet class. The kids wore leotards and pink tights. All except one.
He had on black pants. A boy in ballet? Well, HE won’t get a tutu. Tallulah giggled.
“Are you with us, Tallulah?” asked her teacher.
Tallulah decided she’d better pay attention. She watched closely.
She turned out her feet and curved her hands near her hips in first position.
She bent her knees in a plié. She did it perfectly.
I am an excellent ballerina, she thought. And soon, I’ll get a tutu.
At the end of class, the teacher told them what a good job they’d done. Tallulah waited for her tutu.
But instead she got a hug. “Good job,” her teacher said.
Tallulah decided that her tutu must be coming from Paris. They would fly it in next week.