I took Nora to a music class in the park this morning, and the kid next to her was dancing up a storm:
Me: “Look at her go! How old is she?”
Nanny: “Just turned one. Her Mom used to be a Rockette, so you can see she got the dancing gene.”
Me: “Totally! That’s great.”
Nanny: “Your baby has good rhythm too! You must be a really good dancer!”
Me: “Well, I don’t want to brag but….yes. Yes I am.”
Actual footage of me at my friend’s wedding this weekend:
The parent of one of my students asked about my upcoming wedding.
Parent: “So are you and your fiance taking dance lessons for your first dance?”
Me: “Oh no no. No, no, no.”
Parent (laughing): “I should have known, you’re both already great dancers, huh?”
Me: “Oh my god, NO. I mean, he is. I’m not.”
Parent: “Oh. So why not take lessons? Then you’ll be completely rehearsed and confident that night, you’ll know exactly what you’re doing, and you won’t have to worry!”
Me: “Yeah. That’s just not who I am as a person.”
“You two were awesome on the dance floor. You have some serious moves.”
— Everyone at last weekend’s wedding, to me and Eric, but looking only at Eric.