Somewhere, in the course of aging and grandparenting, a regression toward childhood takes place in otherwise mature, relatively responsible adults. At least that's my experience.
This behavior manifest itself today while spending time with a couple of the grands. It started innocently enough with Mary Beth and me taking Emma to soccer practice, accompanied by Gabe, her two-year-old brother. Their other sister, Julia, was at a meet-the-teacher open house at her school, so Nana and Papa were called on to take care of the other two. Which was just fine with us.
We took our daughter's car since it already had Gabe's carseat and Emma's booster seat. As we buckled them in and took off, I noticed that a cd that I had made for them was playing. The cd, that I had titled "Ahab and Friends," is a collection of novelty songs by Ray Stevens, Roger Miller, Weird Al, the Coasters, Jim Stafford, and others. We listened to Ahab the Arab on the way to the park and I did my best Ray Stevens impression. Then, on the way home, Gabe asked for Eat It. I obliged. Then we sang along to the Great Mississippi Squirrel Revival.
When we arrived home I felt an urge to continue the party while we waited for the parents. I hooked up my laptop to the receiver and speakers and found some of my favorite dance-ables on iTunes. Gabe didn't get the steps to the Cupid Shuffle, but he didn't need to be taught to "shake it." Moving to music is natural for a preschooler. It's only as we age that we become stiff and self-conscious.
We next tried the Cha Cha Slide, which Emma knows. We took it back now, y'all.
At my age I'm still stiff (it's called arthritis), but I'm getting over my self-consciousness, thanks in large measure to the grands.
Their mom arrived all too soon to retrieve them.