Wednesday, February 29th, 2012
Whenever Jack hears any kind of music, he just starts dancing. I realize, though, I may be using the word “dancing” pretty loosely.
Sure, he’s got moves like Jagger… but mixed with a little bit of Stevie Wonder’s signature head swing from side to side and while awkwardly putting his arms straight out like Frankenstein.
It can be Phil Collins’ soft rock, Bon Jovi’s hard rock, Jason Aldean’s country rock, or simply a cheesy jingle on the radio: No matter what kind of song it is, Jack believes it deserves the same dance moves.
In other words, my son has soul but he ain’t got no rhythm.
He’s pretty much obsessed with dancing right now. He has this zebra scooter which he refuses to ride until I hit the music button on it.
Similarly, he won’t begin eating his breakfast or dinner until my wife turns on the radio on top of the fridge.
Jack will point up to the stereo, waiting until he hears a melody before touching the food on the tray of his high chair.
This morning as I was helping my wife get him dressed, he was being pretty cranky for no good reason. I tried distracting him by making stupid faces and weird jungle sounds, but it was to no avail.
So my wife and I decided to sing an unrehearsed duet for him: The Alphabet Song.
By the letter F, he was laughing and working on his dance moves.
And while he doesn’t even care about watching TV in the first place, perhaps for our own entertainment, my wife and I like to turn on The Backyardigans (via Netflix streaming through our Wii) just to watch him get all excited and Jagger around to the surprisingly un-catchy, yet unforgettable, theme song.
My son is definitely a dancing machine. Here again, I’m using the word “dancing” pretty loosely.