Every morning around here has become a dance party. Between the time we wake up and the time we have breakfast, Maybelle and I have started really rocking out.
I'm assembling a pretty good playlist: "Groove Is in the Heart" (thank you, Catherine), "Ain't No Other Man" (thank you, Catherine), "Hey, Mickey" (thank you, ten year old me), and, believe it or not, Toby Keith's "Who's Your Daddy" (thank you, Eliza)--a song that is quite good to dance to.
Maybelle's becoming quite the dancer, so much so that I've begun looking for dance classes for her for the fall--and I mean dance classes, not ballet or something where her little body gets trained to rigid Westernized shapes and then they teach her to put on make-up for the performance. I want her to have the kind of dance I had as a kid: one thing I remember clearly was using our bodies to interpret Tom T. Hall's "I Like." My favorite part was getting to run across the room and then use my body to act out an onion.
It's hard to capture Maybelle's dancing with my iPhone, but this gives you a sense. I'm sorry that I can't capture my own dancing, because let me tell you, I have some fine moves. I'm trying to teach Maybelle to move her hips, but she doesn't really have hips yet.
At any rate, when there's a morning dance party, Maybelle and I are the people you want to invite.