We had our fifth grade dance last week at the height of the last week of school frenzy that occurs in May each year. My youngest son was looking forward to the dance, even though he couldn’t ask the girl he has had a crush on since forever ( see Check Yes or Yes ). Several of his buddies were going too, although a few deemed a fifth grade Jam ”stupid” and decided to stay home and play Xbox instead. The dance this year had a Hawaiian theme and as we pulled up, the girls were all taking pictures in groups, decked out in adorable floral sundresses and wearing just a hint of make-up.
The boys seemed clueless as they waited to go in, reverting back to what they do best, wrestling each other and shoving the nearest boy into any unfortunate girl who happens to be standing nearby. The girls (because they always stand in packs of three or more) squealed in protest and deemed the boys to be “gross, sweaty and freaky” in outrage. Then they turned around and giggled amongst themselves, stating boldly that the boy who just stepped on their friend’s toes must really like her. I signed my son in at the door, offered a weak smile and a prayer to the fifth grade teachers chaperoning and went off to finish up some paperwork for a couple of hours in my classroom down the hall.
I picked him up a few minutes before seven, the Macarena still thumping through the cafeteria, and he was exhausted and sweaty, both signs of a great time. He complained that one of our administrators had made him stop doing the Worm at the dance, but I was pretty sure there was more to the story. I asked the next morning to which my AP said, “Well it wasn’t exactly the Worm. He was, uh, “dancing” on the floor and ended up spinning around with his legs over his head.” Yeah, that’s what happens when the dance buffet consists of Skittles, Starbursts and cake and his Vyvanse wears off around 4 pm. Maybe next year, he will be a little more mature for the middle school dances, but just in case, I might suggest a combination Cirque du Soleil/breakdancing theme so he might fit right in spinning on the dance floor…