I am in love with this photo taken by our friend Albert at Easter dinner. I like it because it is so candid. I don't think anyone in this photo knew we were being photographed at the moment. But it looks staged, doesn't it? Ryan appears to be teaching a tutorial on how to make a baby fly. My expression reads that this is the coolest thing I have ever seen and James looks as if he thinks Ruby is more than six inches off of Ryan's hands and about to hit his ceiling. Oh, and Ruby seems as focused and determined as - gulp - a cheerleader.
Tangent: spoken from a former cheerleader, an accident prone one who only made it because there were 24 - yes two dozen - cheerleading spots open and I was the last girl to try out. In said tryout, I took a tumble (read: dive) off my tryout partner, hurling me into a summersault - not a flip - a full-on tuck and roll on the ground. No, the judges could not forget and took pity on the poor little girl who fell on her head. I was definitely hilarious entertainment in short shorts. And who would turn down hilarious entertainment in short shorts?
That last thought makes me hope Ruby chooses other activities over cheerleading. I mean, to fans and spectators, cheerleaders are nothing more than little girls in short skirts - an added bonus to the game. I realized this years after my little stint, and I have grown to sort of despise the demeaning qualities of cheerleading. But Ruby, if you want to be a cheerleader, you will have a lot of fun moments, so I am not stopping you. For now, though, just enjoy being thrown in the air by your dad. (Ooooo, just thought of another reason not to be a cheerleader: I have dropped more girls on the ground than you can count on both hands.)