Friday, August 8, 2014

the dance.

Dear Dad, 

Last summer, I went to a country bar to go line dancing. We all jumped onto the floor and I gave mom's old cowboy boots a good run. You know, I can throw down pretty good when we're in the electric slide and boot scootin' boogie range, but anything past that. . .well. . .it needs some polishing. 

Did I tell you about the guy with glowing white gym shoes and bluetooth in his ear that was so intent on teaching me how to two-step? (Don't worry, John had eyes all over him.) But, whenever the two-stepping songs popped up, so did he. 

I guess when I saw this picture of us, I couldn't help but relive that moment with you over again. Do you remember it? We were one of the only couples out there and you took advantage of the open dance floor to guide me in wide, two-stepping circles. Best dancing lesson I've had. You told me that we needed to practice more for my wedding one day. I can't wait for our dance that night. 
But for now, I love that you're my first and favorite dance. 
Love you, Dad. 

Happy Birthday, 


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