I love to dance. For many years, I went to a small club in Boston and danced nearly every Saturday night. I went with two different sets of girl-friends over the years. I had so much fun selecting my outfits and accessories (bling) for going out. I made sure my hair was just so (even though I’d sweat it out most dance nights).
I also played a guessing game of how many dances I would have and how many different partners on any given Saturday.
It’s the one activity I don’t share with my husband. We didn’t meet dancing and, except for occasions like a New Year’s Eve soiree or other invitational parties, we don’t dance. We didn’t meet at the club or at a party so dancing is not one of the things that drew us together. (Perhaps that’s why we have a marriage instead of just a memory.)
Recently I took action on this dancing dearth. Hubby always plays music – he has an internet radio station after all. I started asking him to dance with me up in our attic retreat (or the penthouse as I call it because it reminds me of his 12th floor apartment he had when we met).
I’m aiming to make our private dances a regular event because, in case you haven’t heard, I love dancing. Dancing transports me back to my girlish days. I love slow dancing in his arms. (Believe it or not I blush when we dance). It’s thrilling and such fun.
If hubby only realized how much it meant to me, he’d probably ask me to dance more. (Perhaps he’ll read this and take the hint.)
Meanwhile, I will continue to invite him regularly to dance with me. It turns out that I don’t need to go out. I just need to dance…with him. There’s only one thing better…and dancing always leads to it. (Blush.)
This is so romantic. I can’t wait until I meet that person with whom I only want to dance with. I am sure that this is the best feeling to know that he’s always ready to sweep you around the dance floor…and lead to other things.
There is a wonderful song, by Tom Paxton – I think the title is something like Slow Dance, or Dance in the kitchen. They’re listening to the radio and he’s motivated to ask his wife to dance….cross the kitchen floor, that’s what they made it for. one of my favorite tunes, and a favorite activity. No one looking, no one waiting, just slow dance across the kitchen floor. I remember when my parents moved everything from the living room and slow danced…I knew then that they didn’t just love each other, they ENJOYED each other…thanks for the memory.
Thanks for the link to the radio station…I have it streaming in my office as we speak!
Thanks for following the link. I’m listening to it as I work on an article. He updates content monthly.
It was so great to hear you speak of your man in such an endearing…as brothas, I don’t think we realize how such small pleasures carry a long way…I will pass this tale on to some of my male counterparts…it can’t hurt!
It’s the seemingly small things that count, but when you think about it, since time is one of our most valuable assets, to spend time with someone you love doing something that they love is a gift to be cherished. Thanks for the comment.