watching my son dance

We were prepping brunch in the kitchen on Sunday morning, and I'd put on the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, naturally. Jacques quickly caught the boogy bug and started breaking it down while I chopped potatoes five feet away. I found myself gawking; he no longer does the unawares baby bounce, but seems to have graduated to more self-conscious choreographies. Shoulders in isolated lifts and drops, pirouettes and hands in varying states of clenching or waving, he was now doing something he appeared completely aware of and earnestly coordinating for what seemed like... effect? He kept making sure I was watching him, "Maman, regarde, je sais faire ça," followed by a jaunty skipping across the tiles. It made my heart sing! So I of course waddled over and shared some groovy boogaloo moves of my own.