First Middle School Dance

I wasn't going to let them go.  My goodness - they're only 11 years old.  And they WEREN'T going to go, until Mom went to work, and they focused all their evil powers on a susceptible Dad.  He couldn't withstand the pleading, the tears, the drama.  They went.  BUT, being the sMother that I am, I went, too.  Kind of.  Rob and I snuck in after I got off work and "observed" for a little while.  Casual like.   The only parents spying on their middle-schoolers during their first dance.  The boys pretended not to see us, and each danced with one girl (girls look a WHOLE LOT older than boys at 11 years old, by the way).   Then they spent the rest of the night hanging out, milling with their friends, climbing the walls to look cool.... that sort of thing.  Kinda what I remember from junior high school dances.  It was sweet, and I shouldn't have worried like I did.  They were still kids. {{phew}}.  I did feel a little (a lot) out of touch when all those yoots started dancing in unison to some song I had never heard before. but was obviously the latest and greatest thing EVAH.  Think Macarena, 2015 version.  Whatevs.  But then, right after that, something happened that just warmed my ever-lovin' heart.  The DJ cranked "Don't stop believing" by Journey, and all.the.kids. stopped to cheer and sing along at the top of their lungs.  TO JOURNEY.  Circa 1981.  It gave me hope for the future, and I told a nearby chaperone that it did, and she laughed.  We all were just a small town girl, living in a lonely world, who took the midnight train going anywhere. 

It was a bloggable moment, but I didn't take any pictures.  Bad enough that I was there hanging out with them at their first dance, but I DO feel better about all of it now.  Maybe next time I'll even let them stay til the end.  Maybe.