My Dad never danced, had never learned.
My mother had to dance with her sister in laws
at get togethers and weddings they went to.
The men would stand around, talking, smoking,
and drinking their drinks. Never dancing.
One day my mom said, “Lee, you’re going to learn how to dance.”
She put a polka record on the phonograph and said,
“Alright now, take my hand, other hand around my waist. Now
it’s like this, one, two, three, one, two, three, move your feet
like this, one, two, three, one, two, three…..”
The song ended and another one began and they did it all over again.
And at the very next wedding and forever after, my father danced.
I like this! I am definitely not a good dancer but have lived the experience you describe. Good job, captured the feelings and the events perfectly!
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Thanks, Greg. Been out of town for a few days, didn’t see your comment till now. The story is exactly as it happened. They make the best poems and stories.
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