Dance Fever

Yesterday was mother's day, and it brought me to reminisce about my childhood and mom. Most of what I remember are only fragments, like being pushed through town in a baby buggy by my mother. I can still smell the canvas of that baby carriage as I sat wedged in there with my sister, the houses and stores of our hometown gliding by. I also remember our old house on Ravinia Drive. On cold winter days mom would stand in the corner of the living room, directly in front of the heating grate. She spent a lot of time doing that. I think it was because my dad was trying to save money on heating oil. He was a master at saving a buck. One of the things that I remember most fondly, is my mom tap dancing in the kitchen. She'd be busy preparing dinner while me and my sister sat at the kitchen table. On the radio would be WGN. You never knew when it would happen. An old song from the forties would come on and suddenly mom would be tap dancing all around the kitchen. We kids loved it. We had our own little floor show right there in our little suburban night club. It's kind of funny, my mom seemed to have a real handle on dancing, something I have never been good at. Which brings back another memory. One that isn't so pleasant. Mr. Hynes, my seventh grade English teacher, laughing at me dancing at an after school dance. I never went to another school dance after that. Not junior high school, or high school. That prick was also the guy who made fun of my writing skills in front of the whole class. I think he was wrong about my writing, but not the dancing. That probably was pretty funny.