On Friday night Donovan and I went to the Snowball Dance.  It was his first dance and of course required an outfit change.  When he came down stairs in his Most Dominant Player shirt with his Redskins hat cocked completely to the side I knew we were in for a night.
Once at the dance a call went out to the parents to jump on in and teach their kid to do the twist.  It was like déjà vu.  Ten years ago the same request had been made of me.  I had declined as Beau pulled at my fingers and though my feet itched and my hips swayed, I wouldn’t do it.  Instead I pretended to be entirely engrossed in a conversation about a poinsettia sale.  I disappointed him but hey I was in my twenties and way to cool to do the twist with four hundred squirming second graders.
Well now I’m 37 and if my baby wants a dance my baby is gonna get a dance.  There’s no shame in my game I thought twisting my hips and flailing my arms like a blender gone awry.  Or perhaps more accurately…there’s no shame cuz I got no game.

At thirty-seven I WILL make a fool of myself on the dance floor whether it be at the Snowball dance or at any random wedding I can get myself invited to.  I don’t need beers and I’m not afraid of the electric slide.

I WILL NOT however ride a roller coaster.  Somewhere in the last decade I have declined to get in line opting for a little water splashing or the kiddie coasters.  Seriously people I think its vertigo: it makes me dizzy, it makes me want to barf, I don’t like to be scared and….. DONE.

I WILL go off the diving board at the pool.  In high school I was a diving maniac.  After having Beau I settled myself quietly into a corner at the pool and sipped water wore a straw hat and read Star Weekly.  Ok so that’s not true but I did resign myself to the shallow end until my friend Morgan and I had the chance to spend a week at the pool sans kids.  We ate snow cones, we kick boarded, we played water basketball, marco polo and I went off the board.  It may have been the first time Granite Pool has seen a middle –aged fool working her way towards a one and a half in a two-toned bikini but it happened and I am not afraid to make it happen again.

I WILL NOT watch scary movies.  No more peeking through my fingers and spending restless nights imagining Jason at my door; gimme Terms of Endearment, Coyote Ugly, or Pretty Woman any day.  That’s right people I am a big cheese ball.

I WILL NOT lay my hands on another human being in an angry way.  When I was young I loved to fight or more honestly I loved to act like I was going to fight.  I loved to get into a verbal sparring matches and yes occasionally I liked to kick somebody’s butt.  I’d like to blame it on having three older brothers and learning early to stake my claims but mostly I was just trying to be cool.  Now I am a big wimp.  Go on gimme a quick jab.  I will take it I promise you.

But as I found myself on the dance floor twisting the night away I felt pretty happy about my changes and so did D.  I mean the kid came to dance and I after all was his date…until he dissed me for someone younger, cuter and o.k o.k she was a better dancer.  Oh the shame.  Can I borrow her game?