Way back in 1985, guess who was voted the Best Dancer in his senior class? That’s right, good people, yours truly. (I was
also voted as Best Dressed and Best Hair, so you can take that distinction for what
it’s worth.) These days, my dance steps basically amount to bobbing my right
knee a couple of times and then alternating with a couple bobs to the left. I might mix in a
spin move once every few measures just to keep my dancing partner honest, but
that’s about it. Fred Astaire I ain’t. But I sure enjoy the hell out of
watching people dance, especially little kids.
This past weekend I watched my
four-year-old dance her heart out song after song along with her little
cousins. She has some moves, too. I like her little Beyonce “All The Single Ladies”
hand shake the best, but she can twirl a nice circle and do a little Hip-Hop bounce
that pretty tight, as well. What I liked most, though, was how much fun she was
having, and how for even a little bit getting caught up in the dancing going on brought her out of the shell she tends
to stick in from time to time around strangers. Even better were the smiles that her and her little
cousins brought to all the other faces watching them.
The next morning, as she and I took a
walk together around the neighborhood, I asked her why she didn’t save a dance for her old man. She said, “all
that dancing wiped me out.” I can accept that. I’ll get my dance with her later on. For
now, I’m content watching her live it up from afar, especially if it keeps me off the dance floor.
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