Saturday night we had plans with friends to go to a local jazz club called Amra’s. It’s one of my favorite places to go because it caters to a mature crowd, meaning I’m not the oldest person in the place.
We agreed to meet up at my house for appetizers and drinks before heading over there. Naturally, we picked the nastiest night possible … cold and rainy. Yuk. So we weren’t as motivated to leave the house as we might have been otherwise.
So we decided to create our own dance club. Throw on the Earth, Wind & Fire DVD, move the coffee table and watch out.
Mom was sitting there, taking it all in, when I grabbed her hands and said, “C’mon and dance with me.” She said no, but once her butt started wiggling a little bit she realized she was having fun.
There’s nothing like dancing to loosen up, release some energy and have some fun. Mom hasn’t had much fun in a long time. At least not like that.
She’s since repeated the story several times this morning. I haven’t told her to prepare for Thursday night. That’s the evening of our annual party at The Cotton Mill and the “dance club” at our home that night is legendary.