DanThat'sCool!

 

 

I would have called you sooner, but you know I don’t get cell service inside that damn karaoke bar.

 

 

 

 

That’s it. I’m outta here. Nobody talks to me like that while there’s a full table of snacks out back. Mama needs a nosh.

 

 

 

 

If I wasn’t wearing my Spanks right now I’d be all up in that chick’s grill.

 

 

 

 

 

I have no idea where the exits are located. I’m literally trapped in here with these crazy hens. Realz.

 

 

 

 

And then I went like this, and used my psychic maternal healing power to cure Mackenzie’s f***d up toe.

 

 

 

 

 

Bitch. Please.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then they bring in this hot new Mom with giant earrings and boobs out to here. So not fair.

 

 

And here we go again, folks.

Grab a cocktail, or two or ten, and settle in for another Dance Moms Reunion.

The Real Housewives of Pittsburgh were back this week to rehash the latest round of studio stress and dancing dramz, in what was either a season ending get together, a mid-season filler, or simply an excuse to put on fancy dress up clothes and get out of doing housework again.

Your guess is as good as mine.

As you can tell, I’m not really clear on how they work this whole scheduling thing out since the show is already advertising next month’s June Premiere.  (Set your DVRs and plug in the blender.)  So it’s not like they’re getting a full Summer hiatus like CSI and then coming back, months from now, with a two page spread in that special edition of TV Guide.

Like I’ve said before, it’s probably more like a month off from filming just to wash out some leotards and detox all the alcohol out of their system before the next round of competition.  You need to be on your game when it’s time for Nationals.

Regardless, they were back.  And back in that odd little basement studio with the bad lighting and Mardi Gras beads.

I know, right?  I don’t get it, either.

With all the money that Dance Moms and Jane Seymour movies bring in for Lifetime, I still can’t figure out what they’re all doing down there.  It’s almost like some youtube wannabe had booked that studio for the day, but finished early and offered up the same set to the Dance Moms people since it was already paid for through midnight.

And remember last time, at the Fall Reunion (…as opposed to whatever this one is called…) when they classed it up and all sat in those Andy Cohen knock-off couches like the New Jersey ladies?  Granted, instead of Bellagio chandeliers they had a lot of HomeGoods knick knacks cluttering up the joint.  But it was still a couch.

I dunno.  Maybe the Spring version goes in the basement, and the real end of the season one gets a couch.  If I don’t even understand the difference between technical and artistic scores, I can’t be expected to figure out the intricacies of studio rental fees.

Anyway.

As always, my boy Jeff Collins was back to host and squirm and change subjects on a dime.  He cracks me up.  But in a good way.  We’re tight, you know.

Just by the look on his face, it’s pretty clear that way back on that historic day when he first dreamed up the whole Dance Moms concept (…while listening to some Broadway musical soundtrack on one of those radios that you can take in the shower, no doubt…) Jeff never thought that years later, he’d actually have to be the one sitting in a dark, windowless room with all these crazies.

Watch him, and then tell me he doesn’t look like the commander of some submarine who can’t open the escape hatch in an emergency.

Love me those Dance Moms.

For you technical types who are into this kind of thing, I should also note that this year the production people have been busting out that two camera confessional shot a lot.

You know the one.  The one where sometimes the person is looking right into the camera and yakking, and then sometimes they are shot slightly from the side looking off into space.

Which I guess works for MasterCard commercials and The Real World when trashy chicks get totally wasted, but on Dance Moms it tends to look like they don’t know which camera has the flashing red light.

Just saying.

Abby Lee Miller was first on the scene, of course, and played a little word association with Mr. Collins to loosen everybody up before the good stuff.

After dissing Melissa a bit, they called her out from the Green Room, which seemed to catch one of the crew members completely off guard and sent him racing onto the set with her booster seat.  On camera.  Get off Facebook and pay attention, dude.  We only have the studio until midnight.

Melissa talked about her wedding.  The Wedding.  Which was secret, and then wasn’t, and then happened so fast that none of the other Moms even showed up for the event.

Melissa admitted to trying to get the nuptials televised, but her previously married, then still married while dating, then divorced and now newlywed-ed (…did I just make up a new word?…) Greg Gisoni didn’t want cameras at the blessed event.

So William and Kate got all the Royal coverage, while Melissa and Greg just signed some papers in the living room, took a few iPhone movies and called it a day.

As much as I love me some Jeff Collins, his transitional questioning still leaves a little to be desired.

Moving On.  Anyway.  Changing Gears.  He’s like that kid in junior high that starts talking about his World of Warcraft character’s wicked awesome weaponry arsenal for no reason at all while you’re in the middle of discussing how your BFF just texted your boyfriend while you were at cheer practice.

Pump the brakes, man.  Don’t slam ‘em or somebody might get hurt.

All of the sudden he cuts off Melissa and asks Abby about the time that Holly called her a Monstrosity of Evil.  Which was classic, I’ll give him that one.  Classic.  But Melissa wasn’t done raving about her kids.

After announcing on national television that Holly had cankles, Abby and Jeff welcomed Nia‘s Mom (…and her allegedly fat shoe toppers…) to the studio audience.

Once again, Holly showed amazing posture and her Proud Mama Face.  In three seasons I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman slouch in her seat.  Unfortunately, she barely had time to discuss Nia’s RND symptoms before you could hear Kelly and Christi scratching at the back door.

Let’s get this party started.

Apparently, Kelly and Christi still had some outstanding issues regarding the breakdown of their friendship earlier in the season.  Or they were having a 6th grade cafeteria fight over who stole who’s Justin Bieber glitter stickers .  It was hard to tell.

You didn’t call me.  Na Huh…yes I did.  No you didn’t.  I called you three times.  Melissa said out by the monkey bars that you called from her house, which is a lie.  No way, I did call.  Ask her.  Melissa says you always make s*** up.  Yeah, well Melissa is a big poopie head.

Keep in mind that their entire falling out this season was based on Chloe not being able to keep a Bob Fosse hat on her head.  Or something.  I forget.  But being blessed with a massive Pez Head myself, I feel your pain, sistah.

Then all of the sudden while Christi was blowing off steam, Abby walked off the set like she had left her baby in the car.

That’s it.  She’s done.  Outie.

Someone say Snacks in the Green Room?  Thanks for playing.

Before Kelly and Christi went face down in the sandbox, Jeff dripped a little flop sweat and called for Jill, who proudly sashayed out completely Bump-It-Free and no longer sounding like some Cougar waiting for the pool boy to show up with his massive…ummm…pool swabbing stick.

Bow Chick A Vertes.

As long as Jill swears to never Gangnam Style again, we’re good.

Jeff ground his gears again and asked Kendall‘s Mom about all those secret private lessons and her water balloon fight with Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein.

I’m starting to think those two women don’t along very well.

Then it was a Momapalooza as all the Dance Moms lined up their high chairs and started talking over each other.

We relived the Tribute Dance for dead puppy Broadway Baby, the lack of formal invitations to Melissa’s wedding and Mackenzie’s on again/off again mystery foot ailment.

Melissa actually choked on it for a second and admitted that she regretted using a dead dog in her master plan to regain First Place positioning on the Mom Pyramid, and then danced around the whole foot thing again.

Jill stood up for Mackawhacka’s seniority when it came to dancing on The View, even with a hot mess of a toe, while Christi insisted that the whole thing was still a set up to prevent the little nugget from having to go head to head against Miss SassyPants Asia the week prior.

Trust me, I would back my car right up over my own foot before I’d twerk a booty pop against that tiny firecracker.  Monet Ray?  Oh Hey.

And then Jeff asked “Who wants to talk about Cathy?”

Well, yeah…duh…I raised my hand, but I’m not sure he could really see me.  That might only work on Romper Room through the magic mirror.

(Look it up, kids.  It’s a hilarious reference for us old timers.)

And then with a puff of smoke, Chaos Cathy burst up through the Yellow Brick Road to terrorize all the dancing Munchkins.

Cathy immediately started waving her award-winning jerky in everyone’s face, claiming that Abby was jealous of the Candy Apples.  Abby countered with some whacked out story about pent up water pressure accidentally forcing the cap off her Poland Springs bottle during the infamous backstage Slip ‘N Slide throw down.

Seriously.  She did.

Sorry, but unless that 16 oz piece of plastic was attached to a working city fire hydrant, I’m gonna have to give this round to Cathy.  Nice try, though.

Then it was a discussion about choreographer Anthony Burrell calling out Paige from the audience during her group dance performance last week, which crumbled into an argument on what dance teachers can and can not say under the legal guidelines for “critiquing.”

The short version was that you can publicly make fun of a kid, but not call their Mom a Bitch unless you really want to go there.

According to Abby, somehow during the water fight, Cathy’s tiny little purse had managed to find its way to the back of Abby’s head, causing immediate bruising, emotional duress and something that probably sounded like Julia Child tenderizing a juicy slab of raw beef.  And there were photos to prove it.

Yeah.  Melissa drew the short straw and had to snap a few shots of Abby’s bare, battered (…bare battered, not beer battered…) back, which I’m totally Googling after I’m done writing this.

Can you even imagine?

I should also point out that throughout the Reunion Show there were random questions from audience members, who I’m going to assume had either won a contest or drawn a lucky number out of one of those hats that kept falling off the kids’ heads all season.

I don’t how that worked either.  But that shizzle is totally going on Instagram, you know that.  Because they were darn excited to be in the basement in the presence of such dancing awesomeness.  Except for a few Dads who appeared to have either lost a bet or needed to be there in exchange for who knows what kind of future favors.

Jeff also tossed in some dance numbers whenever he needed a drink to sooth his nervously dry mouth.

The last routine was a group number.  Complete with Miss SassyPants herself…Asia!

So you know what that meant, right?  Do the math.  That meant that her Mom JLo was somewhere in the building.

Boom!  Kristie with a K was in the hizzle!

I could just feel it already.  And it gave me life.

Because.  We.  Love.  Her.

But then it was over.  Until next week, anyway.

Part Two.

When this happens, mmmkay?:

Let’s Go, Bitches.

 

 

Seriously? He’s a psychic podiatrist? And now your kid is all better, and that’s really your natural hair color? Pleez.

 

 

 

 

Just like those are your real eyelashes. And your kid’s a big playground bully.

 

 

 

 

Keep it up. Soon as I finish my Starbucks, somebody’s gonna be picking all their extensions up off the floor, sister.

 

 

 

 

 

Bitch, pleez. I used to be the pretty one.

 

 

 

 

 

Lawd. Give me the strength to not go all Jenny Knock Yo’ Block Off on some of these Bingo Ladies right now.

 

 

 

 

This is really my life?

 

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod! We’re not the craziest ones anymore! Shotskis!

 

 

 

Hi.  Thanks for coming.

And now…The Pyramid of Shame.

Boom.  Zoom.  Meow.

That’s pretty much how it went down on the latest episode of Dance Moms.

Abby Lee Miller got right to bidnezz before the opening credits even finished rolling this time around, because after coming in 2nd Place last week (…which, as foretold in the ancient Dance Scriptures, is always the First Loser…) she was not in the mood for games.  Or all the smack talk that was just about to be unleashed.

The ALDC had not only been beaten out of the top spot, but they had been beaten out of the top spot by several dance teachers that Abby did not even know.  Strangers.

So it was time to put the pressure on, starting with the required reveal of the latest Seriously…Maddie Again? Pyramid of Shame.

Bottom row was looking pretty familiar.  Mackenzie, Paige and Kendall.

MackNapSack was still on the ground floor because she had not danced in last week’s competition, thanks in part to whatever it was that was going on with her foot that day.

Nobody really seemed to know what the dealio was with her doinked up foot anymore except that she was originally told by some mysterious unnamed doctor to not dance for two weeks.  Unless she was somehow immaculately, miraculously cured of all ailments earlier than expected, of course.

Then it would be ok to dance.  Hold that thought.

Paige was back on the bottom because she held the American flag upside down at the end of the patriotic group dance and apparently almost ignited an enemy invasion of our shores, even though the jury is still out on whether or not it was really Asia‘s fault for getting the thing all goobed up on Paige’s head during the hand-off.  That one will probably end up in some dead file with all the other unsolved dance mysteries, because nobody could agree on a verdict.

And, of course, Brooke was hanging low again because she’s Brooke. Not to mention the whole Mom Kelly thing and the fact that Brooke seems to be phoning in her participation lately.  Which is probably pretty easy to do, considering that she never looks up from that hot pink Barbie iPhone when she’s off the dancefloor.

OMG.  Boys.  LOL.  Boys.  TTFN.  Send.

Second tier was all about Chloe, Nia and the aforementioned Asia.  They all did a great job at the last competition and got rave reviews, but 2nd row is basically just an FAA holding pattern to allow AirMaddie to zoom past, land and then taxi up to the best spot on the tarmac.

And she did.  Maddie was at the top of the Pyramid again. Yadda yadda yadda.

This week, providing the gang could get their shizzle together and focus, they would all be heading to Youngstown, OH for the Energy Dance Competition.  That’s the competition with that gigantic projected backdrop featuring the silhouette of a dancer that looks like some five year old took his Crayola and traced over a map of Italy.

Seriously.  What is that?

As Abby was about to hand out solos and such, she noticed that MackSlap wasn’t wearing her air cast.  And wasn’t she supposed to be chillin’ like a villain off that thing for a full two weeks?

Sounding like she got caught sucking on a giant Gobstopper jawbreaker, tiny MackSplat said that she felt better and that yes…no…maybe…she had been to the doctor again and he might have said it was probably definitely could be ok to do stuff.

Really.  She gave all those answers at once.  Like Jodie Arias, but without the fake glasses and the headstand.  Don’t get me started on that one.

Melissa came to her defense.  Kinda.  Sorta.

Yes, they had seen the doctor.  But no, they hadn’t.  And he said it was ok if she felt better, because a 7 year old always knows more about juvenile podiatry than someone who went to med school.  The doctor had even somehow managed to x-ray MackSmack’s gimp foot simply by having Melissa press the phone receiver up against her leg and count to 30.  You have to admire the advances in modern medicine.

I don’t know.  It was so jumbled I just went and got a snack.  If you DVRed the episode and plan on watching it later, right now is when you can go to the refrigerator and not miss anything.

Maddie and Chloe scored solos.  Nia and Asia, Fierce 1 & Fierce 2, were matched up in a duet.  Both of them.  Together.

Can I get a Halleloooo from the congregation?

The group number was entitled Hear No Evil (…as in: ‘Don’t listen to any of your Moms’ crap’…) but Maddie wouldn’t be participating.  She would be assisting with the choreography.  Which was somehow different than being an Assistant Choreographer.

Don’t ask.

The assignment immediately opened up a whole can of whoop a** MomWorms in the MomPerch.  Let the games begin.

If Abby really felt that the rest of the girls were dragging Maddie down, then why doesn’t she just move the Golden Child on up to the Senior Group and be done with it?  And if Maddie is really the team leader, why pull her out of a number and set the rest of the dancers up for guaranteed failure?  And what’s the freakin’ difference between assisting and being an Assistant, anyway? And why is Asia having so much trouble keeping up with the tall kids?

And most importantly, why are some of Kristie with a K‘s earring so small this week?

Unacceptable.

Then it was time for this week’s classic Leave It To Christi Moment:

Yo.  Melissa.  Sup?  How’d your kid’s foot get better so fast?  It’s like freakin’ magic or something.  Thought she was busted up, yo.

Oh, snap.

She rested it.  You made it up.  She feels better.  You lie.  No I didn’t.  She’s just scared of competing with the big kids.  No, she’s not.  Yes, she is.  You lie.  Oh, yeah?  Well, I hate your hair that way.

Luckily, Abby received a call from one of Barbara Walters‘ bitches down at ABC before all the Moms could pig pile on top of Melissa for (…allegedly…) lying about her age, her taxes and her kid’s toe.

Abby, decked out in some seriously bedazzled red crystal jewelry, including what was either one of those Joan Rivers QVC Christmas Cardinal bird bracelets or a pair of Mob Wives lips cast straight from Big Ang‘s face, had been invited to cohost The View!

In New York City!

I know, right?  Where’s Star Jones when you need her?  Can you imagine that throw down?  Babs also wanted Abby to bring along the girls and present one of their award winning routines for everyone at home to see.

Somebody must have then realized that nobody had done much actual rehearsing, because all of the sudden everyone got back to their routines.

Can I just take a second to mention how much I used to love that sloppy, graffiti bench that Abby always sits on during rehearsals?  It’s total sixth grade drama club prop, and always looks like the paint is still wet.

This week I finally figured out that up on the left side somewhere it says “Text Me” with what must be an actual phone number, because sometimes the producers blur it like they do a crackhead’s eyes during a trailer park bust on COPS.

For three seasons I thought it said “Eat Me” and that they were pixelating out something really good.  But no such luck.  False alarm…turn the trucks around.  It’s just a phone number.  Not so fascinated anymore.

Anyway.

Abby decided that for The View, they would present “The Last Text.”  That’s the dance where Paige drives a car into a telephone pole because she’s not paying attention to the road, and little MackYak backflips through the window and bleeds out on the stage because she wasn’t wearing a seat belt while screwing off on a cell phone.

Except that this time it looked like it might be Asia who would be catapulting out the passenger side, because Mack was supposed to stay off that foot, despite her suddenly excellerated mutant healing factor.  Needless to say, the chance to dance in NYC opened up the MomWorms again and Melissa got (bleeped) out a few times.

No.  I don’t believe you.  And I will call the F***ing doctor myself.  Bitch.

Somewhere amidst all the accusations, Brooke met with a voice coach to talk about her singing career and get some pointers before they all went to NYC.  Well, actually Mom and the voice coach did all the talking.  Brooke just phutzed with her iPhone (…one of my biggest pet peeves EVER…) and didn’t even look at up the coach.  Maybe she was just rehearsing the group dance in her head.  Who knows with that kid.

And the coach’s name was Hilerie.  For realz.  Spelled like she was some kind of Toddlers & Tiaras wannabe, or something.

With one day to go before the competition, it was getting a little stressful up in the MomPerch.  And stress always makes for good TV.

According to outside sources, Maddie had allegedly let all that new assistant power go right to her head and taken both her newfound authority and her favorite Unicorn Trapper Keeper right up to Asia and told her that she would not be performing on The View next week.  At least that was the word on the street.

Melissa said it never happened, but now that you mention it…Asia is being a totally sissy pants bully to Mackenzie and got caught dropping a construction block from the roof of the ALDC right on to little Mack’s bumb leg.

And then JLo’s eyes got really, really crazy wide like they do right before her earrings start flapping.  Love.  Her.

JLo accused Melissa of being passive/aggressive.  Melissa got all passive/aggressive and denied it.  JLo called the whole sore toe thing a big charade.  Fingers and eyeballs and earrings were flying everywhere.

In other developments, Christi seemed pretty normal this week and Kelly finally realized that you could fill a water bottle with vodka and nobody would even know the difference.

The only thing that could possibly top all the smack talk this week was Abby’s already infamous Drag Queen Walk.

In an attempt to inspire Nia and Asia to Fierce Greatness, Abby showed the two little niblets how to drag walk in their routine.  No, really.  She did.  Like a Boss.

Picture Bette Midler and The Penguin from the second Batman movie having an illegitimate son who eventually grows up to perform with a Las Vegas touring company that only does cruise ships.  Over accessorized with duct tape on his nibblies, of course.

It was like that.  And it pretty much gave me life.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Chloe and Maddie both aced their solos.  Maddie looked like one of those plastic ballerina cake toppers you buy at iParty and Chloe’s legs actually grew another inch during the performance.  Slo-Mo the tape and I swear you’ll see it right before your very eyes, like a garden bean.

If you read the program, there were supposed to be approximately 14 numbers performed before the duet hit the stage, so naturally Nia and Asia were called up right after the solos.  Unstretched, unrehearsed and barely duct taped.

But they werked it out like two Real Housewives of Atlanta hairdressers in Reynolds Wrap Lost In Space uniforms, Miss Thang, and made Shangela proud.

Maddie gave a quick Super Bowl motivational speech to the team and then sent everyone out onto the field for the group dance, which they nailed.

As a result, the ALDC pretty much owned the awards ceremony.

Special shout out to the dude tossing tee shirts and who-knows-what into the audience like he worked at Fenway Park.  I’ll take a size medium shirt and a size large ball park frank over here, please.

After the competition, there was just enough time to run through next week’s NYC routine so Abby could finally decide which little kid would get to throw herself out the window and into the national spotlight.

And the winner is:

Psych.  You wish.

You’ll find out when Barbara Walters finds out.

To be continued…

 

 

Oh. Hell. No. That JLo knock-off did not just say she didn’t know my baby girl. Laquifa What?

 

 

 

 

The girl at the Pittsburgh Mall salon told me that this new hair color makes me look like Sue Ellen Ewing on Dallas. Holla.

 

 

 

I know you’re new here, JLo. But this is the international Dance Mom Sign for ‘Come At Me, Bitch.’

 

 

 

 

 

Beyoncé The Riveter sez ‘We Can Do It, America!’

 

 

 

 

Excuse me? You don’t know my baby girl? Do you not have basic cable in your ‘hood?

 

 

 

 

 

Srsly. What part of ‘If it ain’t Interesting or Intelligent Shaddup’ does this chick not understand? Lawd.

 

 

 

 

Oooh, girl. This bitch is ’bout to make me take my earrings off.

 

 

 

 

Raise the flag and lower your expectations, America.

Dance Moms salutes you.  Sorta.

This week it was nothing but Red, White & Blue (…and Black & Blue, if you count Mackenzie‘s busted up foot…) as Abby Lee Miller went all CNN on us.

It was a lesson in politics and humility.  How to vote, how to pick favorites, how to fight for your party views and how to not hold the flag with the blue part at the bottom.

And even more importantly, it was Kristie vs. almost all the other Moms, which was way more exciting than watching an afternoon of C-Span fiscal cliff debates if you ask me.

But even Congressional hearings have to wait until the Pyramid of Shame is completed, because ALDC rules apply to both sides of the aisle.

After losing out to the dreaded Candy Apples in last week’s competition, Abby was not feeling the passion and determination in her own team that is required to stay on top of the leader board.  And she aimed to fix that fast, before Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein and her Evil Dance Lair swooped back in for another attack.

As all the little dancers and Moms filed in for the latest Lemme Guess…Asia? Pyramid, it was clear that Abby meant business this week.

Tiny newbie Asia Monet Ray boinked through the door all smiley and first in line, which made Abby mighty happy.  Jill on the other hand…not so much.

After months and months of showering Abby with a seemingly endless supply Kohl’s fragrance gift sets and lobby benches in an ongoing attempt at becoming Teacher’s Pet, Jill was not a big fan of Kristie’s ability to simply walk through the front door with nothing but big earrings and a booty pop and somehow zoom to the top of the food chain.

Little Mackenzie, the other half of the Tiny Titans Superhero Team, did not appear to be very happy either.  One…because Asia was already moving in on her Spunky Kid turf.  And two…because she was lugging around a giant plastic boot on one foot and wouldn’t be dancing again this week.

This time it was overuse that was used as the excuse.  Last week it was either an extra bone in her foot or she was cosmically regenerating another toe or something.  It’s never really clear wassup with MackYack.  Word on the street is that Melissa is actually just stepping on her kid’s toes every night before she goes to bed so she doesn’t have to compete against Asia and the tall kids.  Who knows.

But she’s a patootie, so I hope she feels better soon.

Bottom of the Pyramid was all about Mack, Brooke, Chloe and Kendall.

MackaWhackaHo was there because she had been using her mutant healing factor to create a completely new foot and hadn’t danced last week.  Chloe and Kendall were down in the basement because their Trio from last week didn’t win and Abby hates Christi.  And Brooke was also at the bottom because once again she was weighed down with all that dramatic teen age angst and spent all last week acting like she had just been locked out of her Instagram account.

Snap out of it, honey, or just go home and listen to some Taylor Swift.  Enough already.

The middle tier of the Pyramid was for Maddie, Nia and Paige.

Maddie was also in the Trio, but she’s Maddie, so she didn’t have to be down on the bottom.  Paige was finally moving up the Pyramid, thanks to Mom Kelly playing nice and not swearing like someone just cut her off in a Walmart parking lot every time she opens her mouth.  And Nia was there because she continues to fly under the radar, which is good if you’re a Stealth Bomber, but not so much when you dance at the ALDC, I guess.

And, no surprise, at the top was bottle rocket Asia.  Who got no applause, except for me clapping at home on my couch.  You go, girl.

Right on cue as soon as the big reveal was over, MackLoJack started to cry and claimed that she felt dizzy, so Abby sent her out back to raise up her Frankenstein foot and take a chill.  The whole scene immediately got all the other Moms once again wondering out loud if Melissa was behind all the drama, and that she was somehow protecting her baby girl from healthy competition.

Who knows.

Maddie, Chloe and Asia all scored solos.  Stay tuned.

The group number this week was a political routine entitled ‘Free The People’ which they would perform at the PowerHouse Dance Competition in Philadelphia, PA.

Great.  PowerHouse.  Another chance to see those irritatingly off-tempo flashing light grid towers.  I could hardly wait.

With MackAttack now scratched from the roster, Abby was not sure what to do with bite-sized Asia.  We all know from years of watching congested Vivi-Anne dance for the Candy Apples, that one tiny dancer wandering around the stage while the Big Girls are trying to do their jobs is a bit of a distraction.  And this routine didn’t really lend itself to simply picking her up and tossing her around Ohio-style.

So Abby decided that she would just let Asia run in circles, holding a flag over her head like she had just won the 200-meter while the rest of the girls chased after her.  Asia would then drape the flag over Paige who would grab it, flip it and wave it to a screaming audience that was presumably going to be bursting at the seams with American pride by the time the number was over.

It looked good on paper, anyway.

As Asia practiced her human flag pole sprint, all the Moms gathered in the MomPerch to throw down.

Melissa got the party started by announcing that she was definitely putting Maddie and Mackenzie into Home Schooling soon, because then they could dance more and sleep an extra hour every morning.  Less school.  More dance.  More sleep.  Sign me up.

If that discussion had taken place in an airplane, right about now would be when Holly would have choked on a peanut and reached overhead for her oxygen mask.  Nothing like telling a former public school principal what you really think about the public school system, right?  Holly’s facial expressions pretty much give me life each week.

Then Kelly noted that maybe having Asia run around in circles wasn’t fully utilizing her dancing skills.  And that was when Kristie with a K (…JLo from now on, remember?…) made it clear that everyone knows her daughter already and is well aware of what a faboo dancer she really is, so the flag thing was no big dealio.

I hope the bonus features on the Season 3 DVD include about 4 hours of Holly vs. JLo.

Holly was all like ‘I didn’t know who your kid was’ and JLo was all like ‘I didn’t know who your kid was’ and Holly was all like ‘Don’t be talking if you don’t have anything interesting or intelligent to say’ and JLo was all like ‘Girl, pleez, everything I say is interesting and intelligent’ and then my head exploded.

I love me some Holly and JLo.  Love.

And maybe I just watch too much Reality TV (…as if that’s even possible…) because even though I do respect Holly’s representation of a strong, intelligent, well educated woman of color and have fully supported her attempts at preventing Abby from stereotyping her daughter with big afros and platform shoes, part of me just wants Holly to put that doctorate in a safety deposit box, pop off her acrylics and get this thing done.

Just once.  Maybe twice.

Because I know that Doctor Holly could pop off like a Boss.

And we already know my obsession with JLo from her stint on Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition.  Hit Me!  Hit Me!  I Dare You!

A boy can dream, right?

As rehearsals progressed over the next few days, the Moms tried to figure out how to create patriotic costumes without cutting up the American Flag and getting hate mail from the Daughters of the American Revolution, while 2 foot tall Asia dragged all of Betsy Ross’s hard work across the Studio A floor.

At some point in all the hilarity, Abby yelled at Kendall again.  Who cried again.  Which got Jill all worked up again.  It’s a regular thing…so if you missed it, you can see it happen again next week.  No worries.

Finally, it was Showtime!

This time around the competition appeared to have been held in a mausoleum or on The Phantom of the Opera set, because everything was very dungeon-y with secret passageways and bricks and creepy arches.

And off-tempo light grids, off course.

Someone also forgot to lower the automatic garage door/backdrop contraption, because the thing was about 20 feet in the air instead of being flush with the floor this time around.  You either had to watch the kids or look up into the rafters to remind yourself which competition you were attending.

Backstage, Jill snitched on a 7 year old and announced that Asia had cried in the dressing room.  Unfortunately, I was so excited to see the return of the Jill Bump-It that I didn’t stop to fully realize the inappropriateness of that comment until it was too late.

And by then Abby had started an impromptu patriotic runway fashion show to reveal all the Red, White & Blue couture, and I got all off track.

Legal Disclaimer:  No American flags were harmed during the filming of this episode.

The group number hit the stage and that’s when it all started to unravel.  Asia was so dizzy from doing laps around the stage that she somehow ended up putting the flag on Paige’s back all googly oogly, so when Paige did the whole grab it, flip it, wave it thing the stars ended up being at the bottom instead of the top.

And nothing says God Bless America like an upside down flag.

After the routine, Abby brought out what I originally believed was her personal construction worker lunchbox, until she explained that it was for the ballots.  Because everyone was going to vote on who did the best solo….Maddie or Chloe.

The Politics of Dancing.  Asia apparently had not gotten enough parking lot signatures to be added to any last minute write-in ballots.  Maybe next time.

But it didn’t phase her one bit as Asia hit the stage and busted out her take on Rosie the Riveter, complete with head snaps, booty pops and a few bicep flexing moments that looked more like Italian Mob Wives hand swearing than the arms of someone making World War II ammunition.  Waddamatta Goombata?

Momma JLo was diggin’ it.  And so was that creepy judge in the flannel shirt who kept chewing on his pen like a guy who can’t move into your neighborhood without letting everyone on the block know his criminal background.  What was that all about, anyway?

Maddie and Chloe were up next with their solos.  Both were good, but that judge kept creeping me out, so I didn’t pay as much attention as I should have during their routines.

During the awards, that emcee with the doo rag under his zoot suit hat was back, and that’s really all that mattered.  Who does that?

Backstage, everyone voted and Maddie won by a landslide, which made Chloe really sad.  Which made me sad.  She’s such a little nugget.

Then what was supposed to be a lesson in the American democratic process suddenly turned into an argument on political favoritism, and the last thing I remember was Christi filibusting for her cause.

She was still going on…and on…when the credits started to roll, so you knew it was gonna be a long night on Capitol Hill.  Somebody better send out for some pizza.

Your vote counts, America.

God Bless the ALDC.