After last night's cheerleading practice, Ainsley informed me that each girl needed to buy a purple feather boa (!) for the big floor routine they're learning for Cheer Fest, their end-of-season exhibition where it's not about the basketball team, it's all about them.
I sighed. A purple feather boa. First of all...
Where do I find one? That's not exactly something I buy regularly, especially this long after our honeymoon (ba dum dum.)
And secondly...there's something so wrong about a seven-year-old doing a dance in a short skirt and a feather boa. I am not sure I approve. One day it's a cheerleading uniform and a boa; the next, it's a "Bumpit" in her hair and red lipstick and clothes from Forever 21. It's a gateway to skankdom.
My fears were confirmed on the way to school this morning when "Bad Romance" by Lady Gaga came on the radio.
"Hey!" Ainsley said. "That's the song our big dance routine starts with! After that first part with all those words, one of the girls yells, 'H-O-T-T' and then we all yell, 'H-O-T-T.' It's really neat."
Lord. Have. Mercy.
Yes, when you're a cheerleader, your team isn't just "hot." They're "HOTT."