I’ve always been under the impression that it is okay to talk a lot of trash to children half your age if you were there to witness their birth. Correct me if I’m wrong, but one of the greatest joys in life is telling a 10 year old you’re going to dance circles around her until she gets dizzy, actually doing it, and then unshamefully collecting her Girl Scout cookies as a reward.
I spent the day today with my siblings visiting some family friends that I pretty much consider my second family (mostly because we did live with them for awhile, and they continue to feed me like their obese child that they keep in the dungeon whenever I come poking around in their neighborhood). We show up at the delightfully brunch hour of 10am and get socked in the face by the aroma of bacon. My mom’s bff (yes, ladies over 50 years old can have bffs) then proceeds to shove what seemed like 10 courses of breakfast in my elated face while her two adorable children scurry around my siblings and me serving us orange juice that their mom probably had them wake up at the crack of dawn to hitchhike down to central California in order to pick and squeeze themselves with their tiny little hands. That’s how incredibly loving and hospitable this family is.
Eventually, I’m stuffed to the point where the chair is actually sitting on me, and we’re just sitting around talking and laughing (and sipping our OJ with our pinkies up). The older daughter (BH) soon notices the gigantic bling I have hanging from my neck and asks what it is. I tell her and her younger sister (MK) to huddle around to view this magnificent piece of art: it’s a giant silver clock with all the hands pointing to the word “dance.” I wear it every day to remind myself that no matter what time of day it is, it’s always time to dance… I wear it in honor of the dance legends Mike Chang and Brittany S Pierce.
MK, the 10 year old, is astounded she’s in the presence of true greatness, but BH, the cool 7th grader that she is, tries to play it off that she isn’t impressed and mentions that she sometimes likes to dance too, when she’s playing Dance Central. I say something like
OH WHAT, YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE? IT’S ON, BEACHES.
and we hurriedly wipe the homemade cookie crumbs off our faces and scamper upstairs to the dance floor slash family room. They turn the system on and set it up as I’m stretching out my arms and legs. Quickly, I notice that they have all the characters, venues, and outfits unlocked. Uh oh, they must’ve logged some serious dance session hours in. Not to worry, my roommate and I have gotten a few “5 star” rounds…
I ain’t scared of no kids.
I give my Flava Flav pendant a quick 28 kisses and IT. IS. ON.
Fast forward 10 minutes and I am suddenly the angry American Idol contestant yelling at the judge for not “appreciating my talent.” Who is the Kinect to tell me that this 13 year old kid scored 2.2MILLION points more than me?! LIES. IT WAS RIGGED I TELL YOU.
So then I call out the snickering 10 year old baby sister, figuring that she couldn’t nearly be as swaggtastic as her big sis.
Boy, was I wrong.
This little girl– who’s half my size, age, and pimp status– kicked my ass. With a disgustingly adorable smile on her face the entire time.
At the risk of making you shat your pants, here’s a video of us going head to head with Sir Mix A Lot’s BABY GOT BACK:
The worst part is, I know for a FACT that she doesn’t even know what he MEANS when he says baby got back. And she most definitely thinks he’s talking about his real pet snake, the anaconda. And that this Becky girl be workin’ in a bakery and that’s why she got buns, hun.
So today I (l)earned this valuable life lesson:
Don’t assume you’re a good dancer just because your mom looked up from her game of Bejeweled one time while you were playing Dance Central and said “oh hey, you don’t look like you’re having a seizure.”