Yay! Hit Me, Momma!

I’m the Dancing Queen. I love music, constantly sing and (obviously) love to dance. Evan, thank God, has picked up my rhythm and often joins in on the fun. I didn’t realize how much I danced until we were in the grocery store, and people were staring and laughing. I assume it was because they were so impressed with my joie de vivre.

Evan had joined me and I laughed back because we did look funny. My Pat Benatar impression was kicking and he was rocking the box of cous cous like a maraca. He doesn’t know all the words yet to Hit Me with Your Best Shot, but screamed “Yay! Hit me, Momma!” Okay maybe that didn’t win me mother of the year award.

We often break out into interpretative dances for anything from Enya to house music. It’s about flowing with the music and often ends with us beet red and howling in laughter. I also will often jam in the car after I drop him off. Music blaring, I tend to shake the whole car in my animation.

The Evan and Momma Dance Team take a break to play in the sun.

Evan tells me I’m funny, to do “turn around” and will often direct my musical choices. If he doesn’t like a song he often says, “No, Mamma. Not right; sing dis one (insert song name). That soooooo much better.”   

One of his favorites is You Are (the Sun) by the fabulous Lionel Ritchie. (That’s right, I am a huge Lionel Richie fan and darn proud of it.)

The others are Monkey by Counting Crows and Oom Pah Pah from Oliver. But he still can sing the ABCs and knows all the words to Itsy Bitsy Spider. 

Call me a freak or call me a show off. At least I will never be boring and neither will be my son if I have my way about it.