I have wrestled with posting this. I really have. One on hand, I don’t want to humiliate my kid. On the other hand, oh my God, you guys! You’ll never believe what just happened at my house!
As it happens though, my kid is almost completely humiliation proof. If you confront her about something embarrassing, she’ll merely raise an eyebrow and say “So?”, like you are the one who should be embarrassed for even bringing such trivial nonsense up. I’d say this was a new part of her life since she entered tweenhood, but nope. I remember being called to her school because she had mooned someone in first grade, and was completely unrepentant.
I had been talking to my mom about the gloriousness that is Just Dance 4, and being that she lives thousands of miles away, she asked for a video of the kids playing one of the songs.
I was stoked. I miss my parents, and anything to feel closer to them is a good thing. I really want them to be a part of my kids’ lives, and I want my kids to be a bigger part of theirs too. So, I set everything up to make a video. I had the kids choose a good song –The Final Countdown–and got them started.
Everyone was doing great. The gold moves were being hit, the kids were being natural, no one was cursing at the game in creative or mundane ways. It was good.
Three minutes into a four minute video, I was really impressed with everyone. It looked like all we needed was one take, and it would be a cute little video to send to grandma and grandpa.
You know how I have told you all about how my ideas and expectations and how they seem great but they end up failing in rather spectacular ways? Yeah. It shouldn’t come as any big surprise that karma bushwhacked my ass again.
No sooner than I thought about how well it was going, Manchild crashed into his sister, who fell on the floor with a very respectable thud. He kept dancing, or “dancing”. If you saw it, you’d say “dancing” with air quotes and side-eye too.
She just sat on the floor looking at him. He urged her to get up. She said she couldn’t. He danced over her. Literally, over her. He was leaping over her like a gawky teenage Barishnikov as Europe played. She continued to sit on the floor.
“Get up! We have to finish!”, he kept saying. She finally replied, instead of sitting there staring at him. “I need a towel”, she giggled. “You hit me so hard that I just peed myself.”
And that’s when I turned off the camera. Wow, yeah. One take, huh? Grandma is going to be so impressed by this.