A Sunday afternoon dance party

The scent of vanilla soothes my soul. It makes me happy. Happy enough to dance.

Tiptoeing through the living room, making certain to not step on the Beyblades scattered along the floor, I laugh and twirl on my toes.

The boys are looking at Mom. She’s lost it.

Pick something good to play next, please. Some of that stuff is simply annoying. Other songs are too difficult to listen to right now.

Play that one again. Yeah. That one we like to laugh and shake our heads to.

Oh yeah. That’s a good one. Move the Beyblades, my boys. Mama’s gonna dance.

“Shake your booty butt, oh yeah,” Lukey says. We laugh. Then we shake it.

The sun peeks through the blinds. We open them up. Light floods in.

TV is off. Music is loud. Laughter is even louder.

It’s a good day.

Now we dance.


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