Tiny Dancer

I stick my left foot on the top of the tire and heave myself up. It's slow going because the hood of the car is as high as my shoulders; but I manage. I shimmy my body along the front of the car, bring my right foot over and stand. Victory.

Clickity Clickity Clack Kee Clack. Clickity Clickity Clack Kee Clack.

I'm not allowed to tap in the house anymore -- so I've found another stage. I love my tap shoes; black and shiny with long black ribbons. They go real nice with my princess outfit.

Clickity Clickity Clack Kee Clack. Clickity Clickity Clack Kee Clack. I dance on the hood of the car parked in front of my house with full fury. Clickity Clickity Clack Kee Clack. I love the sound that my tap shoes make. I grab the antennae and lean back like the lady did on Star Search last night -- but I lean back a bit too far and accidentally snap the antennae. I look around. No one seems to notice, so I dismount and find another car.

It's the summer of 1981. The hoods of cars are long and flat. Perfect for my needs. I walk on my tiptoes to the next car and heave myself up again. Clickity Clickity Clack Kee Clack. Clickity Clickity Clack Kee Clack. Clickity Clickity Clack Kee Cla---

Someone is hurting me!

"You filthy little brat!" screams the fat smelly lady from across the street. I hate her. Her hand is hurting my neck and she yanks me. I fall to the sidewalk and scrape my knee on the hubcap. It's bleeding. It hurts.

"Look what you did to my car!" she screams at me. Her breath is bad. I don't like her. She drags me back down the street. My shoes are scraping along the sidewalk. I can't stand because she is walking too fast for me. My neck really hurts. Why is she hurting me?

She yanks the broken antennae from her car and drags me towards my house. "I DIDN'T DO IT!!!" I scream. My mother storms through the front screen door and it slams behind her with a hard thunk.

"Get in the house," my mother seethes from behind her teeth. Her anger isn't directed at me. She's talking to the fat smelly lady that was hurting me. I walk down the path towards my mom, and as I pass her legs I whisper, "I didn't do it". She's wearing my favourite pair of shoes - the wooden Dr. Scholls with the white strap. I love those shoes. Sometimes I wear them when I'm playing dress up -- but they're hard to walk in because they are so big on me. I wonder if my mom is going to throw her shoe at the fat smelly lady?

I walk in the house and flop on the couch. Three's Company just started and I sing along while sucking my thumb.

Come and knock on our door...
Anybody will do....
Where the kisses are Ernie, Bert, and Pete
Three's Company too...

I'm fairly confident those are the words. My mother comes back in the house and tells me to take off my shoes. No! I flop myself on the floor and start to cry. No! I will die without my shoes! I flip over on my back and start screaming uncontrollably. The tears are real. I am not taking off my shoes. My mother starts to undo the ribbons and I scream even louder. Not my shoes!

"Karen, please" my mother sighs.

"No mummy. No. I love my shoes. Please don't take my shoes. I love my shoes". We're at a stalemate. My face is red from the tears and the screaming. After 5 minutes of struggling my mother has only managed to remove the left one. "Mummy, puh-leese".

I suppose she knew that when my father came home that would be the end of my tap career. Or perhaps she was just tired of fighting with me. I'm not sure. But she gives me back my left shoe and tells me to go downstairs until dinner is ready.

There is no where in the basement to tap. The floor is unfinished. My play area has a floor, but it doesn't make the clickity sound that I like. I put on my left shoe and walk around; testing out various areas to see if I can make the clickity sound. I go into the bathroom and dance. No sound. I step one foot into the shower -- and, voila! There is the sound. I dance again in the shower -- this time with full acapella and surround sound. Clickity Clickity Clack Kee Clack. Clickity Clickity Clack Kee Clack.

Come and knock on our door....
Anybody will do....