Here’s the thing. I used to take dance lessons. No, seriously. You didn’t think I learned my hip hop skills over night, did you?
It was actually ballet, jazz, and tap dance class that was taught out of a lady’s basement for the longest time. Okay, fine, we were called Red Hots. And I hated it a lot. I always wanted my dad to take me to dance class, because I could always convince him that I shouldn’t go that night.
If we danced like this, though, I would never have picked watching WWF on TV over dance class:
I know it’s been around the internet 507 million times by now, but it makes me laugh a lot every time. Especially because the song is absolutely stupid (and I know all the words to it and listen to it in my car every day).
I’m spending some time in the greater St. Louis area soon. I may have just found something useful to teach Clara Jane.