Blame it on the boogie

I never dance. If you have ever had the misfortune of seeing me dance, you will know why. My sense of rhythm is immaculate. My sense of bodily co-ordination, of dignity, of decency - these are the things that get called into question. Once, at an office Christmas party, a complete stranger told me she remembered my dancing from the previous year's Christmas party, it was that outrageous and outlandish. I pretty much have never danced since.

I want my boy to dance. I want him to love the simple pleasure of moving his body to music, or whatever moves it, and not caring what anyone thinks as long as he's having fun. He's a great dancer - uninhibited, fluid, joyful. As my best friend pointed out to me, he doesn't distract himself by counting to four. He just dances. I hope he never loses that.

He did this little dance while we were preparing everything for a barbecue that we hosted to say thank you to our builders for being so fantastic. We all had a great evening.