Actually I can dance, although I don't do it any more. Too many things jiggle in all the wrong places. The title was inspired by three of my children, who got up to jam to the "Highschool Musical" soundtrack tonight.
No one really expects a two-year old to have solid moves. And even at seven you can't expect much. What makes me laugh is my oldest, who not only believes she can dance, but also thinks she's the smoothest thing on two feet since Grace Kelly. The problem is...she can't, and she's not!
There's no rhythm in her movements, no hip in her hop, and not even a smidge of grace in her kelly. She is utterly unaware of how her arms flail, her legs fly, and her head flops in her efforts to dance her little heart out.
I will never be the one to tell her, though. I'll let some rude and inconsiderate peer tell her that, and then take all the credit for being her loving supportive mother. So long as she's having fun and getting a bit of exercise without realizing it, she can continue to live in ignorant bliss.
Besides, I distinctly recall thinking the exact same thing about myself when I was her age...
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2 comments:
So when my sister wanted to become a cheerleader she practiced like no tomorrow. Worked her heart out but she had nothing. It was sad to watch. Made you cringe everytime. My parents didn't have the heart to tell her either and so they let the cheerleaders tell her and still to this day she hates cheerleaders but my parents did nothing wrong. So I think you are going the right direction.
This is seriously the perfect post! I love all your choice of words, so much fun to read! Thanks!!
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