November 18, 2011

I Usedta Could

Maybe this is a Southern thing like "fixin' to" (about to) or "ya'ant to?" (you want to?) but we say "usedta could" which means at one point I could do this, but now I am no longer able. Way faster to say usedta could.

Me? I usedta could dance.

I was a competitive cheerleader for years. By the time I was at the end of my freshman year I was already a front row, point of the pyramid regular and stayed there until I graduated. We did all sorts of crazy dance stuff. We shook our booties in our short skirts and we were good at it. Often at cheer camps and clinics we were told how awesome our squad was at dance. I was a teeny tiny 108lbs with a gymnast's build. I had quads like rocks and a nice booty to boot (haha, booty to boot).

This past Tuesday I learned that I can no longer dance. My quads and booty are more like marshmallows than rocks, and sadly, poppin' and locking can no longer be listed on my resume. Droppin' it like it's hot? No longer my forte. Gone are my highschool days of dance and my days as a carefree sorority girl shakin' what my momma gave me on the dance floor.

I discovered this as I sat on the floor in front of Evie's bouncer. It all started when she was a little fussy and I started bobbing my head back and forth. She seemed intrigued. At this point I thought, "I bet I look like a chicken pecking for seeds" and began making Bok! Buk! Bok! chicken sounds. This brought a slight smile to Evie's face. At this point I decided to take it a step further and tuck my hands in my armpits and flap my wings (all while "pecking" and making the "BOK!" noise). This brought out a squeal of glee and she started hopping around in her bouncer. At this point I threw all pride out the window, stood up and began shaking my booty all around while flapping, pecking and bocking.

Evie cracked up. I mean y'all that baby lost her mind in hilarity. It wasn't long before I was singing a song "Oh look Momma's a chicken! She's so funny! Evie thinks momma's funny!" in between all the pecking, bocking, flapping and booty shaking.

I shudder to imagine what the neighbors must've thought if they saw me dancing around like a chicken in my living room and singing crazy songs. However, I'd've done it all day if it meant keeping my sweet sick little girl happy. Neighbors be damned.

You know what? Chicken dancing with Evie > Shakin' it on the dance floor. And you can take that to the bank.

Come link up and share your laughs from with week with Melissa at The Mommyhood Chronicles!