On Saturday night, YaYa is going to his first school dance. They’re calling it a “fun night” but we all know that that’s just a gimmick to get anyone and everyone to attend.
YaYa thinks I’m a fool for thinking such a thing. “It’s NOT a dance,” he says, “We wear normal clothes and they have games.” “Cool.” I say. Apparently, he only remembers the dances where BoBo dressed up in a tuxedo.
My first school dance was loud music, a sparking disco ball, and a line of girls holding up one wall and boys on the other. Awk-ward! We just stood there and waited for some brave soul to make the walk across the room to ask one of us to dance.
Me: Sometimes, we got tired of waiting…and would be the one to ask them.
YaYa was quiet.
Me: You were pretty embarrassed if you walked all that way and they said no.
Silence
Me: I really think that some of them wanted to say yes but were too embarrassed that you beat them to the asking.
YaYa smiled. I think he was surprised that I remembered…or that I shared the story with him.
YaYa: We don’t have to ask anyone. We can just all go out and dance together.
Me: Oh. That’s much easier.
Maybe it’s better if I just let him think that I was always his way-cool Mom. Oh wait. He stopped thinking that long ago. *sigh* It’s NOT a dance; it’s a fun night.
And, by the way, EVERYONE is going.
Amen to those sentiments
remember the first dance too and just hung out with my buddies–girls are pretty scary!
though I can see my son starting to move that big bod of his when the dance music is going–so he’ll be one of those that wants to go dancing but is afraid of what his buddies will say
I was probably at your first dance, probably mine, too. I just loved to dance so I’d ask girls ’til one said “yes”. Ah, the good ol’ days when I was oblivious to the fact that a “no” was suppose to ruin my whole evening. I’m sure we danced, you and me, and I’m sure we were cool.
Very cool, Ken. We were very cool. So glad to still be in touch with you after all these years.