The Dance

You put your right foot in, you put your right foot out, you put your right foot in and you shake “it” (“it”, used in this particular blog post, is a collective term) all about!


Oh, what a feeeeelin’….when I’m dancin’ on the ceiling….

What could make these songs come into my head? They are both so different…on opposite ends of my life spectrum…

One is from days of long ago at Kentwood Elementary School, LAUSD, where, every May, classes would parade out onto the playground and perform May Day Dances for adoring audiences of parents and grandparents. The kindergarteners, with crepe paper streamer wristlets dangling from their little arms, would perform the Hokey Pokey. It was always The Hokey Pokey. Cute. Predictable..

If I had a picture of this long-ago event, I would post it here, but alas…I do not.  

The other dance is from a place about mid-way along my spectrum. It was a song by Lionel Richie, early-ish eighties I believe, and, for whatever reason, was the song of choice for my little ones and I to dance to or sing to. We LOVED to dance around in the living room together.

Dontcha just love the mom jeans?

But, today these two points along the timeline collide. Today, I was dancing, albeit, somewhat alone, but still, I was dancing.

Lyrics to the “Hokey Pokey” were dancing in my brain (even though I didn’t have any red, white and blue crepe paper streamer wristlets hanging from my wrists). “You put your right foot in, your put your right foot out, you put your right foot in and you shake it all about.” Lyrics to “Dancing On The Ceiling” (oh, what a feeling) were reverberating through my memory.

And, why oh why did these two “dancing” songs come crashing together in my world, today…

Well, it’s all because of this vicious, evil, manipulative little gament…

Oh yeah, it’s all about the spanx…you put your right foot in, you put your right foot out, you put your right foot in and you shake it all about…you try to wiggle and jiggle…shakin’ it all about…feeling as if you need to be dancin’ on the ceiling to get this litle garment on. Who the h*&% invented this contraption? The same sicko that invented the mammogram-o-meter? Can you imagine? Here’s a real winner of a day…cram yourself into a “spanx” and then go for a mammogram! How about that?

Well, if you find yourself in such a fix…just hum along…

“you put your right foot (or boob) in, you put your right foot (or boob) out, you put your right foot (or boob) in and you shake it all about…”

That’ll make that radiologist wonder what you were drinkin’ before you came in for your mammogram…

And now, I think I’ll lace up the tennies and go hoof it up the McAndrews Hill…it’s gotta be better then the torture of wiggling and jiggling into THIS garment again…

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3 Responses to The Dance

  1. Stacey Coffman says:

    OMG – that is hilarious Patti!

  2. Fae says:

    At first, I didn’t know what that photo was of. Was it a baby outfit of Mandy’s? And then, after enlarging my screen a few bazillion times I saw it for what it was. Spanx. The new century’s girdle. You’re brave…I won’t wear one of those; I hate the tightness all around. I’ll buy muumuus first. And then you did it again to me. Stupid repetitive songs. That get stuck in my brain. Just start signing “It’s a Small World” and get it over with already!! And as far as mom jeans go, I still love mine because my pasta loving body will not tolerate low rise jeans!!! In fact, at Chicos I asked the sales lady, “Are your jeans low rise?” She replied, “No. We sell grown up jeans.” I loved it.

  3. Felia says:

    I am laughing so hard right now because I, too, thought it was a baby outfit!!! Then I recognized my torture device as well.

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