Get on Your Dancing Shoes

About a week ago it occurred to me that in my almost three years with A.P. we have never danced together. Not even once. Say what??!!?? A.P. told me a while ago that he doesn't really like to dance. Then the truth came out. It's not that he doesn't like to, it's that he doesn't know how to. So even though I have my little ipod list of songs I might want to hear at a wedding, it occurred to me the other day that unless I get proactive about this whole not knowing how to dance thing, I'm going to be dancing alone. Sure we can take lessons...but that's usually for the slow dance. How are fancy pants dancing lessons going to help A.P. learn to loosen up, and get down and boogie?? That's where I come in.

This past Friday we decided to get drunk and practice dancing in the house. Wow. How could I not know this about my boyfriend??? He's a TERRIBLE dancer!! But, because I love him, it's so TERRIBLY cute! It's also really, really odd. He's fully capable of keeping rhythm with his hands and arms, but his feet are way, way off. I tried teaching him to tap a toe to the beat and then incorporate that into some feet work, but yeah, that didn't really work. It was fun, though. Truth be told, by the end, he was actually doing a little bit better. We decided to make this a weekly ritual in hopes that by the end, he'll be dance floor ready. Or else I'll look awesome, and our guests will whisper as we dance, "Wow...she really lowered her standards in that department, huh?"

PS. What's hilarious is that after Easter dinner yesterday, we were driving my dad home, and out of nowhere, he blurts out, "Remember when you were little? Remember how much you liked to dance and we had to play those records over and over again?" (I used to jam out to "Music Box Dancer" by Frank Mills, and Pat Benetar's "We Belong." I still have both 45s!!) A.P. looked at me, and we started giggling. Then A.P. goes, "She still likes to dance." It's true. I had an awesome time on Friday.