Sometimes I'll get out on a dance floor and demonstrate this fact for all to see, flailing about like a dying halibut or, more often, moving my arms in rhythm to the music but keeping my feet firmly anchored on the floor - but not often and certainly not anywhere near as much as Kim would like me to. I did learn to polka for our wedding, as I was told it was a condition of our marriage - it's mostly bouncing up and down in double time, as far as I can tell - but other than that I am usually content to sit on the sidelines.
But tonight was the Daddy-Daughter Dance here in our little town. Lauren was not interested at all, and she spent the night with Mom. Tabitha, though, wanted to dance with her dad, and the odds of me saying no to that were nil. Some things are just important that way.
So we went, and we both had a very good time.
The event was held in what used to be the roller rink not too long ago. We had a birthday party for Tabitha there just before it closed, and even after all the renovations had turned it into a rather nicely appointed convention center I still found myself looking for the skaters out on the dance floor. There were none, which I found vaguely sad.
We arrived promptly at six to discover that we were phenomenally underdressed for the event - Tabitha still wore her school clothes, and while I had changed out of my sweatshirt and jeans, most of the men there wore suits and ties. Some had tuxes. But you know - that's not how we roll, Tabby and I. We were quite comfortable - Tabitha even kicked off her shoes for most of the night - and we liked it that way. Score one for us.
We got a rose for Tabitha, had our pictures taken a few times by the photographers they had stationed here and there, and then hurried off to the main event, where the first order of business was buying raffle tickets - it was a fundraiser, after all. Tabitha took the tickets and put them in the boxes she chose, and eventually won a basket of candy, most of which she designated as Lauren's. We then headed over to the food line.
There was much food, of the "small and easy to pick up" variety that these events specialize in. We picked it up and took it over to our place. It was a crowded affair, but we found friends to sit with, and we ate companionably.
Eventually the music started. Tabby and I are well-matched dance partners - we both enjoyed the process, but neither of us is going to be Solid Gold anytime soon. We did the Chicken Dance, of course, as no event in Wisconsin is complete without that, not even graduations and christenings. We formed a conga line. We did the YMCA motions. We wondered who let the dogs out.
I danced with my daughter.
And it was a wonderful evening.
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