I fully expected my new Broom and Dustpan Shoes to make cleaning less arduous. More fun.
But I had no idea that they would help me become a better ballerina!
I'm getting ahead of myself.
My Broom and Dustpan Shoes were simple to make. I found an adorable miniature broom and dustpan set at the Dollar Store. Then I cut the toes out of a pair of old shoes and stuck the handles into the holes.
My Broom and Dustpan Shoes fit perfectly. Not unlike Cinderella's slippers. (Note the irony.)
It wasn't until I started using my new Broom and Dustpan Shoes that I realized the balance, grace and elegance necessary to complete my household chores.
Let's just say that it would be way easier to use my hands.
But that would be boring. I could do this! I just needed some inspiration.
So I turned on some Swan Lake music and put on a leotard. And my Dance Your Ass Off t-shirt (since I couldn't find my tutu).
I used a barre stool for balance and was ready to go.
"Look, Dave!" I announced enthusiastically, "I see some pretzel crumbs on the floor. Watch me sweep them up." I danced my way over to the mess, did a demi- plie and swept the big pieces into the dustpan.
I turned to Dave expecting applause.
"Wouldn't it be easier to use your hands?" he said.
"You're missing the pointe," I said, chuckling at my clever pun. I did a pirouette and swept up some of the smaller pieces."
"You missed a bunch of crumbs," Dave said. "You better dance harder."
"Who are you, Dance Mom?" I said, beginning to get annoyed.
I did a pas de chat (without falling over) and attempted to sweep the remaining crumbs into the dustpan. But my right foot fluttered and half of the pretzel crumbs fell back onto the floor.
Dave was beginning to enjoy the entertainment.
I reverted back to my demi-plie, since it had been effective on my first attempt. But by the time I got the big pieces back into the dustpan my calves and thighs were on fire.
Then I had another idea.
"Here, Kevin! "
"Want a treat"?