The Dance of Life

I don't know if I've broken this news to everyone, and I'm fairly certain that I haven't, but my 11 year old son is taking dance lessons. We started him in it at the beginning of the school year since he needed some sort of exercise and hadn't picked anything for himself. He didn't want anyone to know initially, so I kept his secret so as to avoid any embarrassment that he might have about it. He has wanted to drop it a number of times, but we the parents have made him stay in.

One of the good things about being a male dancer is that the studios are so starved for boys in their classes that they can take as many classes as they like for the price of one. So besides the "required" ballet, tap, jazz, my son has also taken a hip hop class and an all boys (exercise) class. At the beginning of the calendar year I gave my son the chance to drop out. I told him that he had done it long enough to satisfy us and that if he wanted to quit now or ever then it was his decision. He thought about it for a while and decided that he had done it this long and wanted to see how much further he could go. I have to admit I was surprised. I had already made plans for that additional money every month, but oh well.

Since then he has been in a better mood about going and has even decided to be in the recital next month. He did not want to do the ballet routine, but did want to do tap and was asked to be in the performance of another class. Since their doing "Batdance" he was on board. He even gets to dress up as a villain and probably get his ass kicked by Batman.

This all being said, I was in the dance studio waiting for my son's practice with the Batman group to end when BIG weather hit last night. Tornado sirens were going off, rain was flying horizontally, and the power went out for a ten/fifteen minutes. The younger kids were getting fairly worried and I started thinking about how I was going to have to rebuild this land as one of the only survivors with the help of the dance instructors. It was pretty great. My son apparently had the same idea as he had spotted and started chatting up one of the moms. A very hot mom. I embarrassedly pulled him away from her and explained the process of calling dibs to him.

Some lessons don't get learned as quickly as others though and I had to pull him away from her about five more times before the weather let up enough for us to head home. She seemed to get a kick out of it, but I don't think it was right of her to use him to get to me. I'm not that kind of dad.