My mum took me to watch a ballet class when I was 5. I thought the girls looked rather queer in their navy leotards, feet splayed and fingers delicately, unnaturally arranged. Before long, I became one of them.
My mum was nothing like a crazed Dance Mom – she wasn’t amazing at ballet buns, and I think my dad was better at sewing elastics/ribbons on shoes (sorry Mum!).