Thursday, August 2, 2012

e'erybody love me

Reader. this will probably come as a huge shock, but I'm not a great dancer. And by not a great dancer, I mean I'm a really terrible dancer. But the great thing about babies is that they don't have much to compare your talent to. I'm the best dancer Ivy's ever seen because I'm the only dancer Ivy's ever seen. This morning I figured I would take advantage of her ignorance and show off my best moves. There was shaking. There was twirling. There was roof raising. I finished my routine and awaited applause. All I got was Ivy's confused, terrified stare, the same look she gave me when I tried to feed her prunes. It still beats Ollie's usual reaction which is to totally lose his cool and try biting my feet off every time I make any sort of gesture that might possibly resemble a dance move. I'm not making that up. Nothing makes Ollie madder than me dancing. Sometimes we call him The Old People in Foot Loose (one word or two?).

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