Over the past ten years I have come to terms with the fact that my children bear no physical resemblance to me. Oh, people try and be kind and say that they see a resemblance, but I know it is just that-being kind. (Even Roland tried to encourage me after Kailyn was born, "Honey, she looks like you from the neck down!) But I know that they are just a smaller, paler version of their daddy. They have his eyes, his skin, his hair, his features, his allergies.
You can only imagine my joy, my pride, my excitement then when we discovered a way in which they do resemble their mama...they dance like me! Let me assure you, though, this is no complement. How the dancing gene got lost is still a mystery. Roland comes from a long line of good dancers. His parents dance. His uncles dance. His siblings dance. He was dancing as soon as he could stand. So how is it that my children cannot even keep a beat? Can't even clap to the music at church? Recently, Roland has had to face the difficult truth....they are stiff little white kids.
Well, Roland felt that this was a reality that he just could not live with. (Something about "No kid of mine is gonna dance like a white guy...") So, he lined the kids up tonight, cranked up the music and gave them their first official dance lesson.
"Step, touch. Step, touch. C'mon, can you feel it?"
"Feel what, dad?"
I'll keep you updated on their progress...
In the meantime, you be the judge.
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4 comments:
Hey, those kids must be Germans!
Well, even if they can't dance, they're still super cute! It was fun seeing you a couple times this week at baby showers : ). Did you pick your new paint color yet??
So funny! Way to embrace the white culture, kids!
LaNae, the dancing gene was never there for you in the first place! Remeber, dad and I come from a long line of good Mennonites. And dancing, we were taught, was one of the 5 or 6 deadly sins!
Mom
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