We are at a neighborhood luau on this particular Saturday afternoon. After an afternoon of balloon-getting, face painting, yummy food eating, and playing with friends, the end of the luau features some very talented Polynesian dancers complete with fire knives.
At the end of the performance, the dancers ask kids to come up to learn how to hula. Swee’Pea decides she doesn’t want to participate. TheMonk, on the other hand, after some initial hesitation decides that he too wants to shake what his mama gave him and heads on up with the other 20 or so kids. I wish I had my camera but this was a camera free afternoon so you’ll just have to take my word for it that TheMonk knows how to get down Polynesian style. His little hips were all over the place and he was excited to participate.
In fact, he was so excited that when they called up the men in the audience to learn how to hula, TheMonk insisted on going with me.
So, there we were, father and son, sharing a father and son moment. Some dads take their kids to ball games, some go for bike rides, but TheMonk and I were doing the hula.
And I must admit, I didn’t even pause to think how much of a fool I looked like because I was being foolish with my boy.
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