Dancin’ Machine
The other night we were over hanging out with our awesome friends, Lena, Emma and of course, their mom’s. Emma, who is in elementary school, was doing an awesome job of watching Kennedy and Lena and keeping them entertained. We were chatting on the front porch while the girls danced on the lanai.
Kennedy and Lena were doing this crazy dance that mostly involved them stomping their feet and screaming, “I DANCE! I DANCE!”
It is no secret to me that my kid is a bit of a klutz and has a lack of grace. See, I have absolutely no rhythm and have never quite understood how people remain standing on two feet. I’d trip over that second one constantly. On one of my more clumsy days in high school my mom remarked that for God to pick someone to have one leg, He sure picked a clumsy person. And this is very true. So, sadly Kennedy inherited not only my eyes, but my lack of grace.
So, it should have come to no surprise when Kennedy broke a pretty spectacular fall with her face. I ran down and scooped her up, seeing the bruise already forming.
I’m holding her and she’s wailing, “I dance! Mommy! I dance!”
“I know, baby, you’re a good dancer!”
“No! Mommy! I dance!”
I pulled her back so I could look at the bruise, yeah, that was going to be there for a while. ”You mean you want to dance some more?”
“Yes!”
Obviously she just needed to dance the pain away.
