This morning, Gary and I volunteered in a little gift shop at Dove’s elementary school, set up for the students to shop for family members (and themselves) and have their gifts wrapped and ready to go.
The kids’ choices were entertaining. One little boy bought a stuffed teddy bear for his teacher but wanted me to wrap the bear with a jingly Christmas bell in its arms. He happily left with a jangling wrapped present, ready to give to his teacher.
One little girl bought a little purse, and I asked, “Would you like that gift wrapped?”
She nodded and followed me to the table where I had wrapping paper spread out. She quietly watched me wrap the purse. I pulled out a gift tag and a pen and asked her, “Now, who is this present for?”
I laughed. “We don’t really need the gift tag, then, do we?”
She just smiled, took her wrapped purse, and left the gift shop.
After our shift at the kids’ gift shop ended, Gary and I went to the cafeteria for the dance party. Dove was hopping up and down with some of her friends when she saw us, then bolted over and threw her arms around Gary. I got a million pictures of them dancing together, him lifting her up, twirling her around.
My dance skills, apparently, are simply too hot to handle for mere mortals. Every time I started to dance, Dove grabbed my arms and howled, “NO!” Ah, yes, of course: to stop the children and other parents from feeling jealous in comparison. It’s good she is so compassionate. I know that is the true reason she literally pushed me off the dance floor. Considering she taught me most of my suave dance moves, she really can’t be too critical of my rug-cutting!
One little boy caught me laughing at his Russian-inspired kicking dance moves, and he made sure he was close to me every time he burst into a fresh round of dancing, stopping every now and then to see if I was still watching. His grand finale was a 6-year-old’s version of break dancing on the floor, finishing off by asking me, “Am I cool?”
“You are very cool,” I assured him. And he was.
Coming to work afterward was difficult. For one, my hair is sticking up from my awe-inspiring dancing. For another, I just had a lot of fun and didn’t want to leave. And seeing Dove’s face when she knew her daddy was about to leave was hard. He told her, “I will see you tomorrow”, and hugged her tight.
All I can say is, there will definitely be a dance contest this weekend! I hope the kids come prepared, because I am in it to win it, ladies and gentlemen.