Our family is lucky enough to have family dinners almost every night of the week. The Ball & Chain has risen about as high as he wants to go in his career (the boss), is fed up with flying and is therefore home by 6 or 6.30pm each day. He travels out of town about once a week now, as opposed to the four plus when the older two were little. My teenagers have after school activities but they end around 5.30pm, although baseball has just started which will put Mr. Minimal on a bus for at least three nights per week.
Anyway, as I said, most nights we get to have a family dinner - and boy are they raucous. There isn't a shy gene amongst my three so dinner is more like a Royal Variety Command Performance. This usually includes demonstrations of the day's events, done either from a chair (the 5 year old) or the kitchen floor (Mr. Minimal demonstrating his newest break dance move, or the Queenager flouncing off). Last time my mother came, I caught her sitting with her hands over her ears, so I have bought some wax ear plugs for her arrival on Wednesday.
A few days ago me and the little guy were telling everyone about the music the teacher had played in the classroom on St. Patrick's Day (Riverdance, of course.) I started doing my best Irish dancing. Hop two three four five six seven, (to the right), hop two three, hop two three (on the spot). Repeat to the left etc. The older two were doubled up laughing; I even saw brocolli fly out of a nostril or two. This came as a shock to be honest because I danced all types of stuff till I was 18 and can usually pull these things off. Apparently not without the proper support; my boobs were bungy-ing down to my waist then up to my chin in time to the beat, which caused tears of mirth to flow. The little guy didn't quite catch on to this and begged me to keep going, which I did albeit with my hands clamped firmly across 'the girls'- causing even more hilarity, as you can imagine. (Aren't I such a good mother - embarrassing myself for the entertainment of my offspring?)
This all proved to be too much for the little guy tho' and he leapt off his chair, came running towards me with both hands extended, shrieking
"No, mommy, no. You can only show us things you're good at".
Out of the mouths of babes.