She's like the wind.
That's what they used to say about me. I was like the wind. I moved through moonlight only to burn with the sun.
Okay, no-one actually said that about me, but I used to be able to dance pretty well. I actually had rhythm and could move without totally embarrassing myself. Well, it was the 80's. Okay, I embarrassed myself, but so did everyone else. We were embarrassing ourselves together, as one.
The only time I go anywhere now that might require dancing is the occasional wedding, so I didn't realize how far I'd gone. And speaking of weddings, I like to say that my wedding was what stripped me of my dancing abilities. I put on that ring, I took off my dancing shoes, metaphorically speaking.
And John became this master griller. No joke--we used to grill when we lived in Boston, before we were married (yes, totally and completely in sin) and we'd sit down to eat what he'd grilled, look at each other and be like, "Go out?" "Yeah, let's go out." Now John's like Bobby Flay but without the red wavy hair. The guy can grill.
And I dance like Elaine in that Seinfeld episode.
Queen came on the radio last night as we were finishing up dinner, so as I'm prone to doing, I ran over, blasted the radio, and proceeded to lip-sync Another One Bites the Dust with a spoon as my microphone. As it turns out, my favorite teenage pastime is a source of endless amusement to the little ones. The Boy is hysterical, still sitting at the table, Baby Girl starts clapping and dancing wildly, so I pick her up and start whirling her around the kitchen and dancing with her. I catch a glimpse of myself in the window and it hits me.
They're not laughing with me, they're laughing at me.
My 18-month old daughter dances better than I do, and she just learned to walk four months ago.
What's the expression? "Dance like no-one is watching?"
That's pretty much what I do. No-one should be watching, and if you've seen my house, you know that looking into my kitchen window at night is like looking into a fishbowl. Totally clear view of everything that goes on, for anyone who might be driving by and happen to look my way.
I hope I haven't caused any accidents.
Well, if you know me, you know my threshold for self-embarrassment is pretty high, if I'm getting a laugh. And if it makes my kids laugh, I'll pretty much do anything.
Wait till they're old enough to come to a karaoke bar with me. My signature song is "Crazy" by Patsy Cline.
Coincidence? I think not.