1998 october 28

kids dance the darndest dances

in which i continue the thought that started to go astray yesterday...

scott and i have birthdays within a few weeks of each other so every year i have dinner over at his house and we have a little celebration, usually involving cake of a strange color.

scott turned the big 7 this year. i gave him a book, squids will be squids: fresh morals, beastly fables by jon scieszka, illustrated by lane smith. [as an aside: these are the guys who did the stinky cheese man book and i highly recommend both for children and adults alike.] i bought it not only because it is a most excellent book with great pictures and hilarious stories, but also because it reminded me of the first time i took alan, kay and scott to dinner at my favorite italian restaurant.

we ordered calamari for a starter and the kid dug into it like he'd been starving his whole life. he was enchanted with the idea he was eating squid, and the pieces where the tentacles were still recognizable were his favorite. he would screech, "look!! i'm eating his legs!!" and then shove the whole thing into his mouth. i was laughing, his parents were laughing, even the people at the tables next to us were laughing.

of course, if i'd been doing the screeching and giggling with delight at eating the chewy legs of a squid, they would have been looking at me with distain, wondering when my keepers were going to return to take me back to the sanitorium. therefore, i kept the giggling to a minimum and the screeching to a whisper, "pretty cool, huh, scott?"

"yeah," he whispered back.

anyhow, back to the birthday celebration. after we had dinner, and opened prezzies -- i received a most excellent puzzle called tessera, 60 interlocking beetles form endless designs! -- and after we ate colorful cake -- half green, for me, and half red, for scott -- alan put on some strange music, as alan is wont to do.

it was a bulgarian polka of some sort, it started out slow and gradually picked up speed until it was whirling around the room at dizzying tempos. my eyebrows were raised in questioning amusement, kay was simply shaking her head and alan was beside himself with pride at unearthing such a wondrous recording. but it was scott who got our attention.

scott put my ant dance to shame. scott put my dance of i can't find the elevator to shame. running down the hall and then back out into the living room, hands held over his head as he skipped sideways, spun in circles, kicked his legs and clapped his hands in the air, he danced like a whirling dervish, like a cossack on acid, like someone who didn't care that he looked like a dork, just cared that his body wanted to dance and so he danced.

just like he wanted to giggle at eating squid legs and giggle he did.

i know this isn't a profound or original thought, the theme of losing touch with our inner child is a big one of late, but all the same, i thought it. how i wanted to giggle in restaurants, and wanted to do ant dances in public, wanted to express sheer childish delight at things that childishly delighted me.

then i realized that i did do the ant dance in public, albeit a public parking lot, and i do laugh so loudly at things that other people stare at me in dismay. i still wear barrettes in my hair because they make me happy and i paint my toenails bright green. i buy toys for myself and i refuse to share them. i love kool-aid.

i may not be a child any longer, but i think i still talk to the 7 year old claire on a regular basis. and the next time i eat calamari, i am going to invite her along.

giggling and dancing, claire