TO loves to dance. He does his own thang and is unabashed about it while at home or in any place he feels comfortable.
He’s lithe, has expressive eyes (which he widens mainly for more effect) and he loves to twirl, swirl and get his groove on.
Any song he likes becomes our party track for a few months or till the next earworm sets in. Last night I was surprised with an impromptu dance performance to this song
One always hopes that one’s child will be limber and active but this one seems to be choosing artists if their names and songs are animal related. Case in point- Maroon 5’s Animals is another anthem of his.
I wonder if he’d take up belly dancing if I told him snakes can probably writhe similarly…
I’d caught up with a friend for a belated celebration of her birthday at a kiddy place house-cum cafe. She’s specifically kept it in a child-friendly place so the moms would be able to take their eyes off their offspring and just kick back and relax. Erm…yeah. Sure. Why not?
It wasn’t a complete disaster I ought to point out. I ignored my inner paranoiac and thought that being on the play floor and having a brand new place to bounce around in.
This is was one the ingredients that contributed to the kookiness- there was a birthday party that was already going on in the same venue and without any kind of way to tell apart the birthday kids from the non-birthday ones. Either in terms of any clothing/ party accessories or even any cordoned off area.
The 2nd and most crucial element was that I took my eyes off him because there were helpers around to watch the kids in the play area (where parents weren’t allowed). And therein lay the disastrous element.
Our group of women was sitting right at the back of the room in full view of the door to the play area and that was deliberately done so we could keep an eye on our own brats. When the birthday party group started to sing the birthday song and heralded the cake cutting I mentioned to the other ladies in the group, I hope our kids don’t think it’s time for them to have a bite of cake. Phew! Talk of ill-timed prophecies. Within a few minutes of the singing stopping and the door to the play floor swinging open and shut with the kids streaming out, an angry woman stomped out and started talking to the servers in the venue and started pointing angrily at the play floor. And I thought, “uh oh”.
I walked as inconspicuously as possible to find out the cause of a human female turning into an angrily buzzing wasp and guess what I found…my darling son had somehow slipped in with the rest of the birthday party kids and while the cake was being cut he did SOMETHING.
The cake was blue with a fondant topping of Iron Man on it. It had been kept in the display case and most of the kids had eyed it longingly while passing it by. I hadn’t seen my son eye it much and hadn’t factored the cake in as any one of the potential “boo-boo” areas of everything that could potentially go wrong. Anyhoo…L-O-N-G story short…my son pinched the head off Iron Man and ran into the play floor and was nibbling bits off the noggin while the child’s mother gradually turned into a fire-breathing dragon.
This is a red-letter day in my life for sure…ohhhh boy. Next time I’ll salute the little paranoid voice in my head and tell Ms.Optimism to go take a hike.
I wish he wasn’t so cute. Makes it harder to stay mad at him and wish him inside a strait jacket!