My Dancing Daughter

My little one--we'll call her Sunshine--has discovered a new passion. It's dancing. She comes by it honestly. I love to dance, too. I don't get to get out much, but if I do, I dance. Even by myself--when people think I'm out of my mind--I like to get up and groove. I figure most people at a bar are never going to see me again, so it's ok to look like a complete fool. Those who do know me know to expect this kind of behavior. But little miss Sunshine can really get down. She shakes her hips and moves her feet like someone who feels the rhythm right down to her soul. I guess again, it should be no shock. The night she was born was the finals to one of the Dancing With the Stars shows. Not that I had ever watched the program before, but my mom was in from out of town, sitting in the Labor and Delivery room trying to pass the time, and kindly asked if she could turn it on---explaining that it was the finals and everything. How could I say no? Not that I was really watching anything, anyway. Just passing the time waiting for little missy to pop out. She waited until after my mom's beloved program was over to make her appearance. Considerate, huh? Guess that's where we should send the credit for her dancing feet. Lord knows she moves better than I do!