I have a habit of having really stupid accidents.
And embarressing myself. I’m good at that.
The other day I was dancing around the living room. My kids were eating their dinner and enjoying the spectacle of their Mummy dancing, totally uninhibited as the music touched my soul and took over my limbs.
In my mind's eye, this is what I looked like. Image source bestballetshoes.com
Gazelles would be shamed by the gracefulness of my leaps.
Whirling Dervishes would be no match for the awesomeness of my whirling.
Spicing it up, I added an Irish jig to my repertoire that would have scored me an instant spot in Riverdance.
Oh yes, I was on fire.
As I contemplated taking my one woman dance extravaganza on a World tour, disaster struck. My graceful leap ended not with a light touch down followed by a pirouette as planned, but with a scream, roll onto the floor clutching my foot and sobs of pain.
Oh you professional dancers think you’re so tough, but I’m reserving judgement until I see you dance in a room where children have left toys lying around.
The offending object was triangular, sharp and got me right in the arch of my foot.
My children’s cheers of delight were replaced with concern as their mother huddled on the floor blubbering. They rushed over to give me hugs, and Miss 2 even tried to kiss my foot better. It was already turning purple.
As my dreams crashed around me, Master 3 took my face in his hands, looked me deeply in the eye and said, “I don’t think you should dance to the Wiggles again Mummy”.
It’s a win-win situation.
I’ve given up any misconception of graceful movement. Just walking through my house is treacherous. Bless you for cutting loose and trying to have fun.
Thank you. I debated whether to publish this post and let people in on my terrible secret, but then I figured there are probably other Mums out there who dance to their kids’ music in private too.
I’m guilty of dancing in my living room too. My youngest still enjoys it, but my older two now try to shut the blinds so the neighbors won’t see me!
I feel your pain so very, very much. I was once dancing my hiney off to Footloose and whacked my foot so hard on the door frame I thought I’d faint. But I was alone, no concerned audience for that one! Found you at finding the funny!
I’m not much of a dancer, but I feel your foot pain. There’s nothing like stepping on a Lego on your way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Legos are of the devil.
The Wiggles do have some catchy tunes.
Great descriptive piece but I loved your punch line!
I love that comments make you giddy! (And I wish I had thought of that line!) One day soon my kids are going to realize their mom is not the best dancer on the planet (as I have led them to believe). Funny, I don’t even need random toys to injure myself. I seem to do just fine with counter top edges and door frames. I am surprised that Dancing with the Stars hasn’t been knocking at our doors!