Tuesday, April 25, 2006

A Night to Remember

A Night to Remember

Last Friday night, April 21st, 2006, I attended my first Father/Daughter Dance.  The Dance was called “Me and My Guy.”

I am not much of a dancer.  My wife can verify that.  So at first I thought, “Oh boy, my daughter is going to be embarrassed at my dancing.”  Then it dawned on me, “My daughter is only 7.  She’s not going to care.”  

She was talking about this dance ever since she brought home the information from Brownies.  I wish you could take a picture of the sparkle and excitement that was in her eyes.  This was going to be her night with her dad.  My oldest daughter is all about spending time together.  ALONE!  

Every other day she would ask me, “What are you going to wear, Dad.”  Each day I received the count down to the dance, “Five more nights till the Dance, Dad.”  “Two more Nights till we go out, Dad.”  Friday morning she was so excited, I thought she was going to hyperventilate.  

At 5:00:01 PM, she comes running down to my office and says, “You better get ready, I don’t want to be late.”  

I work from home most of the time and Friday I was.  I go upstairs and hear her in the bathroom getting ready.  I went and took a shower, shaved, and put on some cologne.  I throw on some nice pants and a sport coat.  

I come out of my bedroom and there is my little princess for the night.  She has her hair done, a nice hair bow in, and a sweet dress with flowers on it.  My daughter tells me, “You look very handsome.”  The compliment was returned.  Her cousins were over (all of which were girls) and tell her to have a good time.  

I escorted my little 7 year princess out to the car and opened her door.  She climbed into her booster chair and off we went.

We were one of the first few “couples” to show up.  When we got there, she handed me a chocolate bar.  The words, “Number 1 Dad” were on it.  We then took our picture together.  I haven’t received the picture back yet, but I am looking forward to it.  

My daughter and I walked into the decorated gym with tables set up and several girls chatting with each other.  Several Dads were all together talking as well.  I really didn’t know many of the other dads, which worked out pretty well.  Eventually the gym was full of Dads and Daughters.  Dinner was served and we had Hot Dogs and chips.  Of course my girl wanted to have the desert before the meal, which was fine with me on her special night.  

I didn’t know how they were going to handle the dancing part.  I didn’t know how my daughter would react to having to dance.  Those thoughts quickly were a past thought in the far distance when the DJ says, “Okay girls, grab your Dads and get him on the dance floor.”  She took my hand and told me we had to go dance now.  

I took her hands and showed her how to hold my hand and where to put her other hand while we slow danced.  She was having a great time.  I like to sing and so when the song was one I knew I would sing it.  She would sing alone and giggle every once in a while.  I told her stories of her mom and I dancing and how I would step on her mother’s toes.  Her mom never got mad at me, but would act as if it didn’t happen.  

We danced a few dances, and then we both went down to enjoy some more goodies at the table.  You could tell she was really enjoying herself and I knew I was having a blast.  After a bit the DJ announced a contest.  My little girl loves contests.  This contest was who could do the twist the best.  Have I already mentioned I’m not a good dancer?  This little girl of mine informs me, we need to go out on the dance floor and win.  I taught her how to do the twist and we had a great time adding little new twists to the dance.  We didn’t when, but we had a fantastic time.  

The DJ decided to move the music toward Swing Dancing.  Now my wife and I did take lessons for this, but again I must say I’m not much of a dancer.  I played Football, Wrestled, participated in Gymnastics, and played Baseball throughout my junior high through college years.  I’m not a dancer.  My daughter didn’t care that I wasn’t a dancer, nor did she think I was a bad dancer.  I showed her how to twill and all that other stuff that I can’t remember the real names for the moves.  

She then asked me if I could throw her up in the air.  You know, shot her through my legs and then pull her up and throw her in the air.  I thought this would be a really fun time for her if we can do something that she is really going to remember.  So, I did it.  The excitement was something else for her.  She wanted to do it again right away.  We waited a bit longer till it was “appropriate” for the timing in the dance.  We did it again and she tells me how Mommy isn’t going to believe we did that.  

We continued to dance till the dance was completed.  She ran around and told her friends’ good bye, but for the most part it was just the two of us together the whole evening.  The few times we were not together were when she wanted to do the Electric Slide and the Macarena (spelling?).  I was not going to do those dances, but I’m sure she would have thought I was the best at it.  

We walked out to our car and decided to go to DQ and have some ice cream.  We bought our ice cream and talked for a while.  She told me she had an awesome time and I told her I really had a great time too.  I also told her she was a really good dancer.  

Last night she told me she hasn’t written about it in her journal yet, but she planed on it.  I acted as if I was disappointed she hadn’t done that yet.  She looked at me and told me, “She is never going to forget it.”  That made me so very happy I decided that my daughter didn’t care if I was a good dancer.  This was a night she was going to remember and that was all that mattered.  By the way, she told me I was a good dancer too.  

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