Nothing so fun as above, but perhaps a note for those N*t weary dancers... my parents took me when I was a three year old to see Princeton Ballet's version. I fell in love, right then and there, apparently for life... something about the men flying through the air... as far as I can figure, the Sugarplum held no enchantment for me, and pink tutus and toe shoes seemed a disgusting and misleading stereotype to me for years... maybe it was the tomboy in me, but ballet was about men flying, not tutu princesses... anyway, for those of you who dread December, just remember the little timebombs you