Last night there was a mother-son dance at our elementary school. All of the young men got spruced up in their suits and ties. The moms put away their t-shirts and sweatpants, and got out their fancy dresses. Everyone looked mighty fine.
My little man, a first-grader, escorted me to the ball. When we got there, hip-hop music was blaring from the auditorium. I knew this would be good. As we checked in, my little guy got a cool pair of sunglasses. I got a carnation wrist bracelet. Very nice.
"Come on, mom, let's go rock this place." My little man didn't stay with me for long. He joined his buddies for a wild romp on the floor. They were busting some serious hip-hop moves - spinning around, dusting the floor with their fine suits.
The DJ attempted to slow things down a bit for a mother-son dance. Let's just say my son only knows one speed -fast. He was spinning me around, dragging me down.
"Dude, this is a slow dance," I said.
"I am going slow!" he replied.
Okay. Maybe he was a little slower than before.
Next was a trip to the chocolate fountain. My son grabbed some fruit and dipped it into the chocolate. When he was done, he had chocolate all over his face, and all over his suit.
Finally, we rejoined the fun. A human train was chugging along the dance floor. My son hopped on. Not to be outdone, we moms did our own human chain. It was a blast.
By the time we were done, the boys were covered in dirt, sweat, and chocolate. My son summed it up best when we returned home: "Mama, that was the best time of my life!" I'd have to agree. It was pretty fun!