Tuesday, May 3, 2011

all the best dance parties end with jeans in the laundry

It is the end of a long, busy day. A good song shuffles onto my ipod, and weariness causes my legs to move in ways heretofore unknown to me. Step together, step, twirl, jump, step, twirl. Arms merely swaying at first, then up in the air and waving, twisting, swirling. Caution is thrown to the wind as I find myself dancing in my apartment. Charlie is bemused and intrigued, watching me move in a foreign way, and steps towards me with his tail wagging. Bending down, I swirl my arms around him, backing away as he follows me.

Two dancing fools, I scoop him up in my arms and spin around, moving my feet to the beat. Then I feel something warm on my leg.

"Are you peeing on me?" I demand of my dance partner. He struggles out of my arms and runs to the door.

He hadn't wanted to dance with me at all. Turns out he just really had to pee.

2 comments:

  1. Maybe he just got a wee bit too excited at the prospect of dancing and couldn't contain himself...? ;)

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  2. hahaha... i peed my pants recently.. so i understand how charlie felt. except he kind of peed your pants. or something like that.

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