With his interest in music growing (and his favorite songs list expanding ever so slightly), Owen is starting to want to dance. Of course, he has been blessed with a crushing genetic curse. No dancing ability in this family. Sure we'll break it down after some wine at a wedding reception, but I'm praying there is no video footage of one of these occasions.
His moves are well on their way to stiff white boy abilities, usually a little shaking his hips and waving his harms wildly with a big grin on his face. And if you dance with him, the grin gets even bigger.
I decided that he needed to expand his repertoire a little yesterday as some rocking '80s tunes were blaring from my iTunes. So far, he's learned the bus driver, where you have both hands on the wheel and occasionally stop to open the door for the kids. The shopping cart, very similar to the bus driver, except you use the one hand on the cart and the other to pick items off the shelves. Finally, we taught him making the pizza. That seemed to be his favorite. Throw your fists over your head and pretend you're throwing the pizza up in the air. And there will be more to come.
Look out ladies at wedding receptions in 2028, someone's already practicing his lady-killin' moves.
CK
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