See the picture above left? That would be moi at the age of almost 6. With thunder thighs already. I have a November birthday so I was 5 turning 6 in kindergarten that year. My mother put me in ballet lessons to help me quit sucking my thumb.
As we all know, ballerinas don't suck their thumb.
My sisters were in school all day and my parents at work, so my grandmother, Mimi, babysat me that year. She had a very nubby woven fabric on her sofa....and if I could catch some of that cotton under my fingernail, and gently rub it against my nose, I would go into thumb-sucking heaven. You thumb suckers out there know exactly what I'm talking about. Most thumb suckers do one other activity along with sticking their thumb in their mouth.....twirl their hair, rub on the corner of a blanket, rub cotton on their nose. I have very few memories of my childhood at this point, but I can close my eyes and remember pulling at the cotton weave and getting just enough under my fingernail to tickle my nose. Why would I want to stop sucking my thumb? It was the best comfort in my world. Low maintenance kid activity.
So after a brace on my thumb, hot sauce on my thumb and all kinds of pleading and begging....my mother pulled the ballet card out of her pocket. I am assuming the ballet lessons paid off in that I finally quit sucking my thumb. But, hello? The thighs? Those are not ballerina thighs. Those are Texas thighs. Texas, where everything is bigger.
And why is it that chubby thighs look so dang cute on a 5 year old? I am going to work on embracing my inner 5 year old as my thighs still rub together.