Daddy Daughter Sweetheart Dance

Despite being obnoxiously ill, I went to the Sweetheart Dance with Eryn.  Which reminded me that I was rather ill last year when I went.  But at least I get to share my annual illness with lots of kids, which makes it all worthwhile.

There was dancing.  If you're a 2-12 year old girl, dancing involves bouncing up and down.  Having been to a few college parties and watched MTV, I know that this works for 18-24 year old women as well, although for different reasons.  For us white, middle-aged dudes, it's much more complicated.  There was the shuffle step - back and forth, feet touching on each side.  There was the minor bounce - basically a bending of the knees.  There was the hands in the air, ala Ronald Miller in Can't Buy Me Love (oh yeah...Dr. Dreamy had a past and I saw it in a big physics auditorium in Troy, NY).  There was the arms up and down.

The following image is an animated gif.  If you click through, you should be able to see the arms up and down.  Which should distract you from the fact that I'm in a hula hoop contest.  Little girls in a hula hoop contest - it's on until they have to raise their arms and then stick them out to their sides.  Dads in a hula hoop contest, the winner is the tallest one who starts his hoop the furthest up his body.  True dat.

See that suit jacket?  The dance cost me $300.00.  Since losing weight, I haven't bothered to replace any of my high end dress clothes.  Fortunately, there was a two-for-one sale.  Reminded me of the last time I switched jobs.  I think my mother may have bought me the last suit I own.

There were activities other than dancing...there was the toilet paper contest.  I didn't have to participate in this one.  But in my defense, I was probably the first dad on the floor for the hula hoop contest.  The goal here was to wrap your dad in as much toilet paper as possible. Yum.  Picture courtesy of Eryn.


There was cookie frosting.  After I got done with my cookie, Eryn pointed out to me that the cookie was a ballet slipper, not a car.  Boys.  She's lucky I didn't frost a gun.


Eryn frosting her cookie and looking very old in her fancy dress and pearl necklace.


Afterwards, we did our annual trip to Ring Mountain - not that we go to Ring Mountain once a year, but we always go there after the Daddy Daughter Dance - and they had Chocolate Chili pepper on tap!  An excellent evening, particularly as there's a quart of chocolate chili pepper misered away in the downstairs freezer at this very moment.

Daddy Daughter Dance

Eryn and I went to the Rosemount Daddy Daughter Dance on Friday. In the past, the Valentine's dance has been hosted in Eagan, but this year they combined with the southern version. It was bigger, that's for sure, with about twice as many little girls running around, but it was also not quite as interesting because of the size, and because they ditched the cloth rose and teddy bear for the kids. Not that I think Eryn needs yet another rose or teddy bear, but because after giving them to the kids for years, they were noticeably absent. But we had fun. We danced and decorated cookies (crowns that looked sort of like someone flipping you off), played a bean bag game, and had our picture taken of us dressed up.

Here's Eryn in her crown with her wand, trying to look like she's not really sleepy.


Decorating one of the cookies at the frosting/cookie station.  I worry about the sanitary level of the frosting given so many little girls were sticking their fingers and knives in it, but it wouldn't be the first kid spit in my space, and it won't be the last.


Here she looks sleepier.  The hair pulling usually means she's thinking about something.


This guy was there with his daughter or grand daughter.  I think he looks like an evil Mark Twain pulling a gun.  Don't mess with Mark Twain.  He could bury you with words.  He's probably reaching for a pen to write a scathing account of my dancing.

Daddy Daughter Sweetheart Dance

Pooteewheet threw a picture of Eryn and I at the Eagan Daddy Daughter Sweetheart dance up on Facebook, but I thought I'd post something here as well so I could add a few videos of the dancing. The dance was on Superbowl Sunday, and from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. central time. It was layered over the entire game. Fortunately, I came home for the last five minutes which were the most interesting.

I note the game, because the woman running the dance apologized to the audience several times for the date and assured everyone it would never be on that date again. On the positive side, Eryn got a teddy bear, a cloth rose, and a second teddy bear centerpiece because there were so many bears and centerpieces left over from no-shows that it was less of a lottery and more of a handout. I presume I'm a good Dad for going to a dance instead of watching the game.

We did have a great time. We got dressed up. Drank lemonade. Made Valentine's cookies. Colored heart magnets. And danced. I felt bad because some of the fathers lifted their daughters up for a slow dance, and Eryn's just too big for that (or I'm too weak...take your pick). She looked like it made her feel a bit sad, but she seems to understand. She stated after the first hour, her hair a bit sweaty, "Dad. Dancing is like exercise."

So here we are, dressed up for the dance. My suit hasn't been out of the closet in so long the shoulders were dusty. I'm not sure I've had it on since Eryn was born.


Here's Eryn dancing for the camera. Hamming it up a bit.


And here's me doing a white guy dance with her, although I can't quite get her to stop dancing for the camera. We didn't really capture her favorite move in this video. The spin. She likes to spin, until it looks like she should puke. One hand spin clockwise. One hand spin counterclockwise. Two hands,spin around and spin back. Spin around me with other spins, like a planet orbiting the sun. Sometimes it involved using the rose or the teddy bear as a pivot point. Made me dizzy just standing there.


The two bears have been named. The larger bear is Teddy Bear. The smaller bear is Teddy. I shouldn't complain. I once named two of the stuffed wiener dogs Pooteewheet owns Dick and Dick Dick.