My all time favorite thing to do is dance. Often when I was young and it was a kinder gentler place on earth. My grandmother would take me dancing on a Friday and Saturday night. You know the booty shaking, hip roaring, hand slapping kine you heard talk about in the south, at what we called juke joint or hole in the wall. That's a whole other story.
Since those days I have practiced ballet, jazz, modern, the list could go on. What really has me in a pickle is I want to enjoy some form of dancing with my husband and he has about as much rhythm as Steve Martin in the Jerk. He really doesn't have a passion for it like I do. Before you think it let me say, yes I knew he didn't have rhythm when we met. I'm not trying to change who he is. I just wont to enjoy his company. Doing something I want to do.
We have been enjoying some of the seasons of Dancing With the Stars. No I did not drug him and tie him to the chair. He really liked critiquing the dancers. I asked him if he would consider Ball Room dancing he hesitated and said "Maybe." That is my opening. I am going to work this like a jockey riding a horse. I will let you know at a later date how the negotiations turn out.
Love Ya See Ya Bye
Twilla
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment