Just Dance

Kids go through phases of entertainment. I remember some of my own growing up. For the most part, we skipped the Barney phase and went straight to getting hooked on the show “Zoom.” This was a program that was educational in nature disguised as fun using song and dance routines. Science experiments were accompanied by techno beats and a little fist pumping. Nothing gets you jazzed for science like break-dancing.

These kids make learning fun!

Pogs were another favorite pastime of mine. What are these things anyway? Does anyone know? As far as I’m concerned the goal was to accumulate as many of these colored cardboard discs and shove them into capped tubes. Some might have been called “Slammers” but I don’t remember them having any more power in the nonexistent game.

Look at this stash-- the envy of every adolosecent.

Skip-It was the game du jour in our neighborhood. If you didn’t have one of these ankle-breakers you could consider yourself shunned. Poor Jill didn’t have one of these growing up and she’s still sour about it. I can totally understand. This game was, like, tOtAlLy kewl.

I can only dream of being as sassy as this girl in her denim vest.

Currently the kiddos are going through a party-music-dance phase. A CD player follows us everywhere in the house. I feel like one of those old-school rappers with an over-sized music-maker resting on my shoulder. Hook me up with a Tall Tee, low-slung jeans, and a chain or two and I’m set. The CD on constant rotation is “Bravo,” a take on the popular NOW CDs in the States. Currently filtering through the unfortunately acoustically-unstable house is “Shut Up” by the Black Eyed Peas; before that was “Toxic” by Britney Spears. If ever there was inspirational music for minors, this is it.

The moves they were busting last night deserved awards. These kids know how to groove. Thankfully, the way they gyrate their little figures stays waaaaay over on the “G” rated side of the spectrum. Otherwise we might need to talk about respecting our bodies. Speaking of which, Little Bean favors a twirling-while-simultaneously-raising-arms-overhead move that would bode well for her during a Lord of the Dance audition. Taz, on the other hand, really works the stomping-foot-on-ground tribal feel. I’m actually impressed with their creative genius.

I really just have a problem with the lyrics of the songs. But, I can’t seem to get them away from this disc. And the parents are fine with it. Right now, I just heard the lyrics, “Come on girl, come caress my body.” I’m blushing just listening to this. Last night we were all sitting around listening to a stirring version of “Milkshake” by the lyrical mastermind, Kelis. Taz turns to me and says, “I don’t understand this song.” My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard/And they’re like/It’s better than yours/Damn right, it’s better than yours/ I can teach you/But I have to charge. I ponder for a few minutes about whether or not to tell him how paying for someone rendering services can quickly become a slippery slope if one isn’t careful, when he jumps up off the ground and begins to throw his body around with reckless abandon. Best to let the naiveté live a little longer.

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