The Wobble and Bio

So, I’ve been asked, by whom I can’t say (yet), to write a new bio for their ‘designers’ page. You would think this would be a simple thing; a quick “this is me” little paragraph. Well, you’d be wrong.
I’ve been staring at a blank screen for quite some time. Long enough that the thought of telling ya’ll about how difficult it is crossed my mind. And yes, I might be a little whiney about the whole thing. Whiney enough, even, that my kiddos have decided to attempt to help. It’s been a family effort, and my page is still blank. Difficult for them to understand that I’m just not that interesting. There is nothing unique or interesting that anyone would want to know. I’m perfectly average. Then, my J, I can always count on him to bring humor, suggests, “You should add your dance credentials.”
You see, my sweet E, my baby girl, will be turning 16 soon and we have been working on the playlist for her dance party. Well, you know, dance party means, yep, dancing. So, being the insane mother that I am, I have been YouTube surfing. Tutorials galore. That’s right.
I can Wobble. I can Whip & I can Nea Nea. Add those to the Electric Slide of my EARLY teen years (don’t ya’ll go tryin’ to put a date on me further than I am), the Cotton-Eyed-Joe & Two-Step -because every Texan worth their salt can do those in her sleep and of course, Cumbia -you remember I’m married to a Latino, right? I am going to dance. Or boogie down. Or turn up… Whatever the kids are saying these days.
Dance like nobody is watching, or, more truthfully, like all of my kids’ friends are! Ha! Embarrassing your teens, that’s what its all about right? I have to do this. It is my obligation, as mom, to give my children memories of a lifetime. Something they can talk about for years. Stories that will live on for many many Thanksgivings to come. Bwuaaahhh ahhhh ahhhhhaaa
I exaggerate a little, my teens are actually quite on board with my dance moves. In fact, we are going to attempt to learn the Footloose dance together. That’s right, all of us, dancing in our wee space, squished in front of the computer screen. When the trailers a-rockin’, just come on in.
Oh wait, I haven’t told you that story. The trailer. Next time, friends.
Oh! and no, I still haven’t written that bio.

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