My daughter is starting Square Dancing this week in PE. She said that the PE teacher said, “Since this is the week of love, we will start square dancing!” She rolled her eyes, but said she didn’t mind. After all, the boy she likes is in her class! And, apparently, he is not repulsed by her, draws her pictures etc, so that’s a good thing. I asked her, though, what would happen if she wasn’t his partner? She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Oh, well. It doesn’t really matter. Unless I get (We’ll call him Herman) Herman! Ewww!” She didn’t get Herman, by the way, so all was right with the world. She didn’t get the boy she liked either, though.
The boy in our carpool who is in 5th grade told me that he was going to wash his hands 7 times before and after square dancing this week. I asked if he could wear gloves. He said with much disdain, “No. They won’t let us.”
This brought me back to my days of square dancing. I absolutely loved it. Every year. I, too, had a boy I liked every year, but I don’t recall ever getting to be their partners. (Yes, I changed boyfriends every year except 5th and 6th grade. Tim Flavin was my man those two years. I remember that he wasn’t in my PE class, so it wasn’t even an option.) Anyway, I didn’t care who my partner was. I’m sure there were a few icky guys I didn’t want to be partners with(usually because they had chapped hands), but I truly just enjoyed square dancing. True, I plain liked boys. (I think I always had a crush on someone as soon as I came out of the womb. Or at least when Charles Wooten gave me my first kiss at age one…)
Even in college, our group from the Lutheran Student Center would go to a local town that a couple of our members were from, and we would have an annual Barn Dance. I loved it! I even rode down there on the back of a motorcycle right after I had pneumonia, so I wouldn’t miss it! That year, my friends set me up with some guy from the town, unbeknownst to either of us before we got there. But, that relationship lasted for almost a year, I think. Longer than any other before I dated my husband. Was it my perfection of “allemand left with your left hand, dance right into a right and left grand” that made him fall for me? I never asked.
Now, please don’t get me wrong. I don’t foresee my husband and I ever becoming one of those couples that get matching outfits (and mine with petticoats and swirling skirt) and do the square dance circuit. But, never say never…