Somehow last year, we missed the school Valentine’s Dance. Were we sick? Oh wait. We were in Paris. Aaaah. Back to earth. That was not going to happen this year. Meaning going to Paris. And meaning not missing the dance. We sent our $4 a person check for $16, covering us 4, only three days late, which in school fund-raising terms was right on time. From 6:30 to 8:30 there would be a deejay in the school Multi Purpose Room (MPR for the cognoscenti). Families were asked to bring a dessert to share. Translating as an excuse to make cookies. Since John Sr. and Jr. don’t really like chocolate chip (!) it was a Snickerdoodle (recipe) kind of night.
Our mild rainless February continues but we drove the 2 blocks to school, as carrying cookies and a camera in heels is a drag. Juliet donned a lacy black dress, and put her hair up. She had slapped on some unauthorized lipgloss, so pale I missed it till the end of the night. Which was fine. At this age, the few boys dragged by their parents hover at the edge of the dance or hop around if the music is especially loud and bouncy. The girls dance with each other or their parents, but eventually it’s all a big game of chase except for the 11 year olds, who looked terribly mature to us parents of 2nd graders. They wore heels! They looked at boys! The boys kind of looked at girls! God help us in three years.
The MPR had dim lights, a disco ball, a deejay playing everything from “Thriller” to “Party Rock” (that’s by LMFAO, and is current, to you readers who lost track of pop music with Nirvana). When Katy Perry or Taylor Swift songs came up, you could hear only screaming as the girls worshiped their heroines. In short, it was a great night. With a photo booth you could enter as many times as you want. A sample:
Outside the dance, various parents chatted, passing around a bottle of. . . water. The lemonade inside was juiced with. . . lemons. The popular kids were. . . no doubt cruising the mall, as this was the little kid dance, people! Get your minds out of the gutter!