For the newcomers in the dance world let me forewarn you of the most vicious predator that stalks studios: the dance mum. What can be said of these loving, doting, and abject beings? This particular breed of testy females has a perspicacity of all things about the world of dance. If one hairpin or por de bras is out of place teeth gnash and heavily manicured claws are unleashed. They are creatures of many moods; if one of their precious offspring has been reprimanded, a stream of diatribe is sure to occur. While they are known for intermittent times of pleasantness, it is advised to keep your distance.
For the neophyte dancer, beware, the maternal sides will kick into overdrive if they feel threatened. Surveillance is kept up at a steady stream at the dance studio by these catty women; any mishap or embarrassment is noted and kept in a large envelope labeled “Blackmail”, filed away for safekeeping. Yet snooping is not the only talent these creatures posses. Skillfully gifted with needlework, they wield their weapons continuously, never derelict in their task of creating sylvan and other whimsical costumes for their young brood. And for those selected few, they will incessantly talk to their victims until blood pours from their ears.
Their attempts at befriending their snack are quite inane and repulsive at the same time. First, they engage the chosen with small, light hearted chatter. Lured into a false sense of security, the victims become taken with their predator. Next they keep their eye out for the sought out to make one small mistake. Darting in for the kill they sink their teeth into their prey, with their fiercest weapon: words. A catfight ensues and the vulnerable underdog stands no chance against the seasoned dance mum veteran. Reputation shattered and clutching the hand of a teary eyed little girl, the defeated leaves to find a new shelter for her young. For all those newcomers to the dance jungle beware. The dance mums are on the prowl.