Saturday I took DC to another Daddy/Daughter dance being held at a local elementary school. She’d had such a fun time at the last one, how could I pass up another chance? Reading over that last post, it seems like this one was similar in most ways, different in a few distinct ones.
First off, DC knew what to expect this time. She wanted to know if we were going to go to the same restaurant–because the one we went to last year was “so beautiful.” So yes, we went to the same one. She once again had chicken fingers, along with almost all the other girls at the table. (One went with pasta this time.) I had a fantastic sausage and peppers pasta dish that was superb–though I ended up spilling on my white shirt (of course).
A highlight this time was the fact that there was a fireworks show just across from the restaurant while we were eating dessert. Really, we couldn’t have planned it any better, though it happened more or less accidentally. DC had a great time watching the fireworks, and I got the chance to eat all the dessert. 🙂
The dance itself was much improved from last year. There were actual songs I recognized (much appreciated–Justin Bieber just doesn’t do it for me), and better yet, there were no F bombs in the middle of lyrics. It was interesting watching DC dance–she was unconcerned at all with how she was dancing or what she might look like. Not self-conscious at all. At the same time, she never stopped watching what everyone else was doing, and I’m not sure why. To get ideas of other dance moves she could try out? To see if they were dancing any better? No idea.
I thought it was funny that the first thing she wanted to do when we got to the dance–after having a great dinner at a restaurant–was make a beeline for the refreshments. Grapes and crackers. Boo yah.
I’m sure I looked like a big goof out there on the dance floor. That’s my typical modus operandi. But I’m happy to say I really no longer care. I was there for my daughter, and I was with a group of people who likewise didn’t care. Hooray for that. Of course, it’s easier to be less self conscious when all of the girls at the dance are crawling on their bellies underneath a limbo stick. (They played limbo during a part of the dance. The daughters apparently all thought the only really important bit was getting under the stick–it didn’t matter how. Funny.)
I couldn’t help think about some of my other dances–from high school, for example. When I think of all the time, money, and effort I put into trying to make those nights “awesome” . . . I can’t help but think it was a waste. All that does is build up the pressure to have the event be great. Saturday’s ticket was like $8. Senior prom’s ticket was something like $120, as I recall.
No offense to my senior prom date, but my daughter was way more fun. 🙂
Anyway–that’s all I have time for today. DC’s still in the prime age group for these, so I’m pretty sure I’ll be back next year for another report.