Let The Rhythm Move You

First, I bring you this...



A little backstory (because when have I ever been one to get straight to the point?): When I transferred to Woods Elementary in the third grade, I knew I needed something in my life: friends. After brainstorming on my penmanship tablet, I realized the best way to make a slew of friends was to be part of our school-wide talent show. And no, my talent was not solving long division in front of a large audience. It was dancing. Oh yes. Before you feel completely sorry for me, please understand that I didn't do a solo dance, I was part of a group. And our song of choice? That gem you just heard. A bunch of very white, very short little girls breaking. It. Down. I don't remember much of the dance except for the running man and the robo-cop. So whenever that song comes on the radio, watch out for these elbows because they are out of control.

On Saturday, Michael and I were driving to the mall and he was making weird robot noises. No idea why, but stuff like that doesn't surprise me anymore. I picked up on his robot noises and started my own robot version of "Everybody Dance Now" so I could do the robo-cop (of course). We were our own car of dorkiness for about 30 seconds before Michael decided he'd had enough with my bad sound effects and killer dance moves. He turned on the radio to catch a break and that is when my birthday weekend turned into THE BEST BIRTHDAY WEEKEND EVEEEEEER! The second he hit the power button our car was filled with that glorious 1990 hit, loud and clear through the speakers.

It was fate I tell ya. And you don't mess with fate. Oh no, you DANCE with fate. And that? Is exactly what I did.