Father-Daughter Dance

It had been a very long time since I’d been asked out to a dance, but one day back in February I received a special invitation from my own little girl.  She wanted me to take her to the Father/Daughter dance held at the school.  I quickly said yes, before she had a chance to change her mind.

I think getting ready was half the fun – at least for her.  She got to wear curlers (not sure what all the fuss is with curlers, personally.  Never helped me any).

I took her out (cuz I had all the money) to Angelo’s Italian Restaurant (yup, there’s Italian in Northern Japan) and we ate lots of pasta.  And the scallops were fantastic.  We just talked and talked while we ate, and had a grand time together.

The dance was set up prom style – well, not exactly, I guess, but they did have balloons.  And a photographer, who emailed the photos out to us later. 

She’s a cutie.  I can’t believe she’s 8 years old now. 

It was tough keeping her to myself all evening.  She kept escaping to go hang out with her friends or to get another . . .  and another Oreo Rice Krispy bar (I liked them too, so I made a batch the next day – Oreos and Rice Krispy treats . . . who knew they could be so good!).  We did get a lot of good dancing in too.  “The Chicken Dance” got the whole crowd out onto the floor.  There was a huge spontaneous bunny-hop line (just the girls – and one random boy who was a bit out of place -- while the dads were sort of pushed to the perimeter of the dance floor).  Most of the time no one could even hear the music, but that didn’t matter anyhow, because no one could really dance to the beat.  We all just sort of wiggled our arms and jumped up and down all night.  The last song was a slow one, though, and it was quiet enough for us all to move to the tempo – Katya loved being twirled around and to be thrown in the air (no, not during the slow dance).  There was some swing-dancing earlier in the evening, but she didn't care if there was music.  She just wanted to make sure her friends saw her being tossed up high.

There’s my little cutie.  She may not like it, but she’ll always be my girl.

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