The First Dance

I had a date on Friday. To a dance.

I wondered what I should wear. I settled on a shirt and tie. No jacket. I knew some of the men would be far more formally attired than I, but I wanted to be ready to party.

My date was absolutely stunning, resplendent in her yellow dress with fringe below the waist, an image of a leading lady in a Disney film (I cannot mention her name without permission of Disney productions) on display on top.

I understood that I was not her initial choice of partner, but her leading man was most of the way across the country and thus clearly unavailable. I did not mind being the backup selection (actually, I think I came in third in the balloting, but the runner up was just recovering from a small illness and could not claim his favorite uncle, and most excellent dancer, slot).

When we arrived at our destination, the room looked quite festive. My date immediately spotted one of her classmates and best friends and I lost her to the crowd. Within but a few minutes, the place was in a frenzy. Many of the youngest men running at a fevered clip to and fro, seemingly without reason or purpose. The women congregating and dancing to the beat of the tunes coming from the DJ.

I soon reconnected with my date, and one of her girlfriends and took them to the concession area, where they dined on some delicious desserts. And then they disappeared into the pandemonium again.

When my date tired of the tumultuous environment, we wandered into a side room where there was plenty of paper and crayons and a few tables. There, other like minded people were sitting in the calmer atmosphere, creating works of art and profound beauty.

As quickly as it had commenced, the magical evening concluded. We only had use of the ballroom for an hour. Then the seniors (third to fifth graders) took over the joint. I can only imagine what that must have been like.

I was, to my knowledge, the only grandpa in attendance. I considered it to be an amazing honor to be a fly on that wall, to be there for a kindergartener, my kindergartener's, first dance.

Even if I never actually got to dance.