Not that Alex's dancing ability can even touch little Miss Quinn's hot moves, but dancing is his newest thing lately. He can't hear music without busting a move. And he does not discriminate - he has danced to everything, from Fleetwood Mac, to Sean Paul, to Sesame Street. It seems he will have his parents' diverse taste in music.
He was really feeling this Dr. Dog song and decided to bop a little to it. Although his rhythm leaves something to be desired, he did throw in some hand gestures to make up for it. You see, what he lacks in technique, he makes up for with enthusiasm.
Although he often pole dances on the corner of his jumperoo, he was on the wrong end of the room when the urge to dance struck. So instead, he bellied up to the window and did some booty poppin', sans pole of any kind. Oh, and the tune-free yelling you hear is what we've interpreted as his effort to sing along. It seems he has his parents' taste in music, but his mother's voice. Poor boy.
(Btw, I am fully aware that his outfit is atrocious, what with the rolled down britches and the socks on top. But the socks won't stay up otherwise, and the pants are a little too big not to roll, and I'm a little too lazy to change him into something less offensive. I know, I know, what happened to the Sarah you all used to know and love?)
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2 comments:
Love it, Love it, LOVE IT!! What a little male danseur Alex is becoming. I'm debating on if he is going to be the next Wade Robson or the next Mikhail Nikolaevitch Baryshnikov. Two very different kind of dancers, but at the same time very talented. Alex sportn' the rolled down britches reminds me of Baryshnikov when he danced with the New York City Ballet. Now, tell Alex to start dancing on his tippy-toes.
a.) Please tell that kid to stop growing until I can see him again!!!
b.) Please, oh please, Lord help him to be a better dancer than his father!!! amen!
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