Dancing with Daddy

(Rachel posted about this briefly but I thought it deserves multiple paragraphs. :)

Often in the evenings I will turn up some music while I do dishes. This is the kids' chance to harass Daddy to dance with them. I find it particularly hard to refuse Melissa's outstretched arms and "You dance me, Da'yy [Daddy]?"

The problem is, Melissa doesn't like craning her neck back with a partner twice as tall as she is. Nor does she like me to get down on my knees to be closer to her level. So last night when a laundry basket was left within reach, she turned it upside down and climbed on it to be tall enough to dance with me as an equal. She was tickled to death with her cleverness.

Of course then Matthew was jealous and had to have a turn on top of the basket. I have to admit that I like dancing with Melissa better. Moshing with Matthew tires me out!

This morning I resisted the invitations to dance at first. So Melissa went downstairs and brought up a two-foot-deep plastic toy bin and did the same thing with it. "You dance me, Da'yy?" I acceded.

Sometimes she really does get disappointed though. Once Melissa got her church dress on Sunday morning, she proclaimed, "I ready dance!" Alas, we were running late, and church was not for dancing.

Although come to think of it I don't know exactly what she did in nursery later. It's quite possible she convinced the teacher to dance.