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I remember the worst day.  Ellis was about 1 year old.  We'd gone to a local Scottish Country Dancing class for toddlers.  We'd been a few times before and Ellis spent each and every class crying and clinging onto me.  Ofcourse the minute the music stopped he was tearing around the room, dancing and laughing.

On this particular day, we'd been split up into groups and a woman and her little girl (the star of the class) I didn't know was to dance with us.  She took one look at us and walked over to her friend and asked to switch.  She didn't know I overheard her say that she didn't want to be in a group with that "boy who always cries". 

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