Dancing Machine

As a child, I never passed up the opportunity to perform in front of other people. At family gatherings I would don my tutu and tap shoes, and dance my way across the fireplace hearth. So it's not much of a stretch to imagine that my little boy will be anything but a wallflower. Daniel has loved music since he was a newborn, and he especially enjoys music class with its movement, incorporation of props, and instrumentation. Until recently, however, he has been content to clap along with the music or rock back and forth a little bit (see post about musical Hallmark cards). It seems that he finally getting the idea of dancing.

For the past two nights, Peter has played The Police's greatest hits in our downstairs CD player. Peter keeps the rhythm on Daniel's plastic toy drum, of course. Daniel stands in awe of the music for just a moment. Then his upper torso begins to sway, along with his arms. Pretty soon, his knees are bent and he's bopping up and down with the beat. His little tush sticks out and his face remains serious. But he's definitely responding to the music!

I can't wait until he reaches the age of maximum dancing pleasure. It's the age my brothers were when they would each grab a sparkly glove and imitate my dance moves to Michael Jackson's "Thriller." Watching home movies of this spectacle is known to bring about both hysterics and the wetting of one's pants. I hope that Daniel never stops dancing, and that he'll permit me to dance alongside him for as long as my body will allow.