Would you like to dance...or jam?

I am a big fan of traditions of all types. Tonight brought with it one of the sweeter traditions we are honored to take part in...well, the hub and the girls take part in it. The annual Father(or significant male figure in your life) Daughter Valentine dance at our church. This was the 11th year for the event and the 10th for our oldest and the hub. He is not a fan of dancing...or huge crowds...or blaring music...or super dressy stuff. What he is a super fan of is his daughters. It is such a sweet time where dads, grandfathers, uncles and even neighbors take the sweet young women in their lives to spend a special night celebrating and dancing and eating lots of cookies. My trio went to dinner before all decked out. It has become a much anticipated event not only by our church, but by members of the community. The girls were excited to go, even S who is supposed to be a jaded middle schooler who is embarrassed to be seen with her grown ups. I think I even saw both of them flutter their eyes and blush when their daddy complimented them on their dresses. I am a horrible photographer, but here is how they looked right before send off:



The boy and I had a starkly different, well maybe not, experience planned. Along with a group of his buddies, we went to the premiere idea of "funtertainment' around these parts: Jump Jam. It is one of those indoor trampoline parks with booming, pulsing music and tons of people everywhere. I was hesitant to go to be quite honest. For every good experience I have heard, I have heard three injury stories. Broken arms, cracked vertebra, sprains and cuts...yeah, I was concerned. The boys were very excited and ready to get started. I ended up not jumping, long story, but someone needed my ticket and that was fine. In all likelihood if I had jumped, the hub would be writing a guest post from my hospital bedside as I would be in traction. They were worn out and sweaty monkeys, but they had fun. My boy was ready to go and enjoyed an ice cream treat afterwards. Since I failed to ask permission, I will show you a less than great picture of the boy's experience:




He got a few scrapes on his back, but otherwise fine. He is enthusiastically sawing logs as I type.

Sometimes preparing the girls, or helping them prepare, is stressful and I say things like, "Well next year ou just won't go if this is so awful" or "Then just go in your dress from last year that is too small if you will not try anything on..". I sound like a swamp witch for sure. But it would take a whole lot to keep them from the dance. It is a precious tradition that would not be missed by my three. It isn't about the dance. It is about the time spent together...the fact that dads who don't dance would go and actually dance...and dress up! I am grateful for my daughters and I am grateful to my husband for loving his girls and treasuring the gifts of his daughters.
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