Dancing Weddiiiiing – Young and Sweet only seventeeeen. You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your li-i-ife.
Wow, this was a fun one. I’ve been to some where I stay for the meal and slip out the door; others where I sit at the table all night talking with friends without even so much as a glance to the dance floor; and still others where I play whiffle ball and serve guests bbq from a gas station.
Okay that last one was my own wedding. Yikes.
But this one. This one will be the dancing wedding.
We all knew K & D loved to dance, for them to see this all night:
It must’ve just made their day.
It made mine too, because I’m re-entering the world of dancing without caring.
R thinks he’s been duped. You see, in college our circle of friends would go to a place with a dinky dance floor. And while everyone else was bumping to the music, R and I would stand flat against a wall getting to know each other all the while avoiding drinks getting sloshed into our face by someone’s bad dance move. It was fun. Kind of like dodgeball meets dating. So, he thought I didn’t like to dance, which meant that there was no pressure on his end. And there wasn’t. Truly!
Until recently. If there is a packed floor and good music on, then I’m psyching myself up to get out there if I’m in the mood.
And I don’t care if I dance a little Elaine Benes-esque with my one-handed train conductor move, because if you can’t hear… Journey’s playing and it’s time to move.
So when R went MIA after seeing a good dance crowd, I turned around to find my good ole standby. Mom.
Whaaaaat? What is she doing all. by. herSELF?
Something drastic needed to be done.
So I ran to the DJ and requested Backstreet Boys, stat. HURRY. This is an emergency, my mom is sitting all by herself because she’s not really into House of Pain.
He gave me a sidelong glance and hesitated in the B section. “Are you sure it will go over well with this crowd?” I didn’t care, we had to pump some dancing blood back into Momma Pat and this was the ticket.
As the song started, I ran away from him so no one would know who requested the song. No offense, mom. But could you believe that people gave a loud whoop and clapped?
I grabbed mom and drug her out with me.
She was only a little excited.
By the way, nice bra, Carolyn. Jeez. I’m the classy cousin at the wedding with my unmentionables hanging out in every photo. Sigh.
We slow danced… Still couldn’t seem to find R, so had to make-do with taking photos of my sister and her husband.
And then there were dance-offs:
My nephew, W, partook in one and apparently won?
But grandma was cheering a bit too hard for little W, because the dance-off moved onto her:
And she was booty-ed off the dance floor. No one is safe during a dance off, my friends.
But not to be outdone, my brother-in-law (aka “roommate”) had one out with a groomsmen.
I don’t think anyone can compete with suspenders. Sorry N.
Oh, K & D. What a great wedding! I don’t know who this girl is nor why I took the photo, but I think it had to do with the drawing. Does it seem familiar to this old blog post? Click here.
And Dance. Discuss and dance. That’s pretty much how life goes anyway.