Games, retirement dinners, more games, sports banquets, even more games, graduations, more games than anyone in the history of games has attended, school board meetings, musicals/plays, and dances.
Most are fun.
When I say fun, please note that I am not talking about dances.
There are dances for every season: fall, winter, and spring. Each one brings an opportunity to watch students dance.
If you want to call it dancing.
Personally, I think dances should be called “I Wouldn’t Dare Move My Body Like This In The Vicinity of Someone Else’s Body If My Grandmother or a State Trooper Was Within 100 Miles of This School” Event.
Ahh, the kids with their loud music and borderline criminal behavior.
What happened to the good old days when society was going to be ruined by Elvis’s swiveling hips?
The good part of dances for school administrators is… well, there isn’t a good part.
The bad part is you have to go. It’s not like when you were in high school. Back then you could just tell people “you didn’t want to go” and skip the dance. Of course this was code for: no one asked me out… again.
But that is a very sad blog for another time.
Actually, I consider a dance successful under one condition. Nothing horrible happens.
And remember, no matter how bad a high school dance is, it could be worse. It could be a junior high dance (actually it is only a dance for the girls… for the boys it is simply an excuse to run into the bathroom and pester their buddies).
At my house, every dance brings a special moment.
No, not a new suit, limo, or corsage.
A very long discussion.
You see, my wife has an issue.
Actually, she has many issues but I like living in my house so those will never be discussed in a future blog (unless I change the names to protect me…).
Her issue with dances is that girls spend lots of money on their appearance only to kick off their shoes 10 minutes after the dance has started.
And then they dance barefoot.
On a dirty and gross dance floor that she likes to call “Infection Central”.
This bothers her. But it gets better.
She used to simply hang around the edge of the dance floor and point out to young ladies what a bad idea it is to dance in your bare feet.
Now she has turned it up a notch.
She is officially the unofficial Restroom Gatekeeper.
You will find her close to the bathroom. This puts her in prime territory to point out not only how foolish it is to dance barefoot, but how young ladies compound their troubles when they go into the restroom.
Surprisingly, some young ladies don’t head her advice.
Even after she tells them they will get ringworm and their toes will fall off.
I am paraphrasing, but one time she told a group of young ladies that leeches were going to crawl onto their feet, up their legs, into their ears, and eat their brains if they took one more step. They did.
And they are still alive (as far as I know).
All of this leads me to my future.
A future of my one day 17 year old evil spawn arguing with her mom at a dance about footwear (or lack thereof).
I can even envision door slamming, yelling, and the phrase “You’re her father, I blame you. Go talk some sense into your child.”
I can hear this discussion in my head and its 9 years away.
My only hope is that I am not supervising that night. At least then, I can leave and not have to watch my daughter “dance.”