Two weeks ago, my family spontaneously created the impromptu Saturday night dance party thanks to Lawrence Welk. All ages are allowed to the before mentioned dance party, especially kids seven and under who enjoy the random dance-off in the living room. I'm not sure if it was the music or the big hair and swanky red dresses that caught my 5-year-old's eye, but that girl was up and dancing to big band and swing music like nobody's business. And the rest of us were giggling so hard we couldn't breathe. The kind of guffawing that hurts your face for a day or so.
I always knew she had a flair for the dramatic, but Lawrence Welk? She was mesmerized .it floated her boat for nearly 45 minutes between the fancy red dresses, big hair and makeup of the day and tunes that kept me (and her older brother shhh! Don't tell) twisting, swinging and dipping her all night. Cheek to cheek for some sweet melodies and then the grabbing of brother to teach him how to properly and sweetly dance with a girl. Embarassed maybe, but he got it this was something he needed to stick away in his memory for future painful Jr. high moments.
Waking up to Arkansas's newest swing dancer asking "Mommy, is it dance party day yet?" has me howling before my other eye is actually open all the way at 6 a.m. "Not yet honey. Saturday." "Is it Saturday yet?" "No honey, one day more." I have heard this daily. Since Sunday. So it's a date.
So thank you Mr. Welk for the fun. And thank you ladies for the big hair. We'll be back this Saturday same time, same place for some wonderful melodies like "Dearie", "Let's Go Dance Again" and "You're an Old Smoothie." It's the place to be.