♫♪♫ we like to move it, move it ♫♪♫♪
My friend Mel competes in ballroom dance competitions. My friend Dori fondly recalls her disco days. But a dancer I’m not. Or at least I wasn’t before this trip to Jacksonville. Because you can’t spend seven days with Lily without learning to move it, move it.
Remedial dance. I recommend it highly.
It’s a powerful ice breaker in crowds of adults who, upon seeing a 2.25-year-old feel the spirit, suddenly have a reason to shake off their solemnity. Some give it a good shimmy; others simply smile. But in both instances, it’s instantly clear they like to move it, move it.
The pic above is from a spontaneous Starbucks session this morning, where a scholarly type writing professorial notes in the margins of a thick book couldn’t help but hustle up a grin. A similar event occurred a couple days ago in the Contemporary Collection hall of this city’s lovely art museum. And then there came the grande danse of the preschoolers and Miss Belle in the cool basement of the neighborhood library. It was there that I not only heard the anthem of these so-small-shakers, but was encouraged to bust some mini-moves of my own.
Now it’s your turn. ‘Cause I’m thinking ♫♪♫♪ “you like to move it, move it.” ♫♪♫♪