I’m having SOME EMOTIONS over here at my house, because Friday is Valentine’s Day.
Oh, I’m not having the emotions over Valentine’s Day, because I’ve had numerous ones of those.
(Please let me pause here and make a little announcement, which may or may not be for you. Dear Hubs, Friday is Valentine’s Day. THIS Friday. It’s not the third Friday in April, or six weeks after Ash Wednesday, like you’ve suspected all these years. It’s Friday. I’m not really crazy about roses, Hubs. Rosebushes that are planted outside… yes. Cut roses in a vase? Not so much. They’re beautiful, but for some reason, I kill them dead quickly. What I AM crazy about, though, is movie theater popcorn. And you.)
I’m having all the emotions because the local junior high is having a Valentine’s Day dance, and the boy has. asked. to. go.
Last year, when he was a lowly 6th grader running around on the junior high campus, the boy made the comment, “Mom? Do you know that this school has dances? Is that the dumbest thing ever, or what?! I would never, ever go to a dance! I hate dancing, and I don’t want to be hauled to one by a girl.” And this weekend, the boy commented, “Mom? So… there’s a dance on Friday night at the school, and a lot of the guys are going, and some girls, too, and I was wondering if I could go with everyone.”
Because time flies, people. Time flies and little boys grow up, and how do I send my firstborn to a dance, when there is the very real possibility that a girl will ask him to accompany her to the dance floor, and he will move away from his safe spot by the punch bowl in the corner, to go out there with her to some full-of-the-bass-beat song?
So then later this weekend, the boy announced that a REAL LIVE GIRL had asked him to the dance. And that’s pretty much when I decided that Hubs’ dream of living on a remote island off the coast of Alaska, where groceries have to be flown in to you, and where I would homeschool my boy, is now more than likely the lifestyle that I prefer. I’ll miss all y’all down here in the continental forty-eight.
Because Mama is so old-school, and because he’s MY BOY, we kind of decided that WE’RE NOT GONNA GO TO DANCES WITH THE GIRLS YET. So, he’s going with the guys. His little wolf pack of friends that he’s known since kindergarten and earlier are all going together, and then half of the pack is coming over to our house afterwards to hang out and stay the night.
I’ll probably pace my house, behaving exactly like MRS. NERVOUS WRECK, while I wait for my boy to get back home on Friday night. I know that I’ll be rather anxious to interrogate him about the dance. I have a plain, 100-watt light bulb that I’ll suspend above a stark table, while I ask him questions.
Last night, the boy said, “I don’t know if I’ll actually DANCE at the dance; I might just hang out and talk.” And that’s when I hugged him and said, “That’s such a wise decision!”
… do y’all know WHO DOES DANCE?
It’s Thing 2. That toddler of ours cannot hear a song with a lively beat and sit still. He simply MUST MOVE when the music plays. He’s also got rhythm and dance moves that would make Channing Tatum weep with envy.
Today, Hubs put Billy Idol’s song, “Mony, Mony,” on the iPod. It’s because Hubs is terribly CONTEMPORARY when it comes to his music.
So Billy Idol was hollering and yelling and trying to pass it all off as SINGING, and Thing 2 broke out his moves. What I had nearby was my Canon camera, because I treat it exactly like it’s my third child. I didn’t record Thing 2 TWIZZLING and shaking his head back and forth like he was in a wild mosh pit, but WHOA! We had some dancing going on at lunchtime today!
I know that the still-life photos don’t do this justice, and you can’t hear Billy Idol yell, but just know that the dancing today was an AEROBIC ACTIVITY that involved burning more calories than the winter Olympians are doing.
(And, yes. Thing 2’s binky IS pink. He likes it. And he’s tough enough to kick someone down if they give him a bad time for having it.)
That makes Mama a touch nervous. Thankfully, we won’t have to worry about it, on that remote Alaskan island, while I’m homeschooling and shoveling eighteen feet of snow off my sidewalk every other week.
Y’all have a happy Tuesday evening.