Friday night dancing

We had a moment Friday night - one of those magic moments. I cooked dinner this Friday since Ruth and Chris and Liam had spent the day at Sea World and Bob had come home early. We had Jewish music at dinner, and shifted to upbeat, dancy Jewish music during clean up, and then polkas - and suddenly Bob and Liam were dancing together, marching, clapping, swaying, and Ruth and I were dancing in the kitchen and. Then Ruth was in Chris' arms for a fast polka through the dining room Liam was clapping time and I was dancing with my hands in the suds and somewhere in there Bob kissed me. Life should have moments like that, the kind you can't plan. I think about more traditional communities, whether Jewish or the Czech Christians I grew up around who went to the SPJST hall Saturday nights and danced, kids, old people, parents, teens, ever body together. I got polkaed on patient men's big boots when I was too short for my feet to touch the floor and swirled giddy in the strong arms of farm boys (before Viet Nam made them soldiers and sadder) the summer I was seventeen. That kind of multigenerational activity, with music, to music, is fun.