The Father Daughter Dance

I thought our first annual Father Daughter dance would make for a fitting first post. Here we are, Bailey in her finest evening wear and I decked out in my blue blazer. We're off to St. Albert the Great ("St. Albert the not such a bad guy once ya get to know'm" as I call him) for a night of fine dining and dance. It was a grand affair held in the school's CafaGymaTorium. I had forgoten what it's like to be in a room with upwards of three hundred screaming Catholic school girls. They were all crowding the DJ stand when they annouced that Rita's water ice was being given out at the other end of the room. Three hundred girls screaming in unison charged across the room. Before they even made it to the water ice the DJ announced a Hanna Montana song. Three hundred girls in unison made an immedidate about face and went screaming back to the DJ. As the other fathers and I watched this spectical, looking sort'a like the crowd at Wimbleton, I naturally had a funny thought. While we were all glad to be there, let's face it. Three hundred screaming girls and we're missing the Flyers play off game. I imagined that they announced "cold beer is now being served" and three hundred screaming fathers went charging across the room for the keg. All in all it was a good time. I got a kick out of the dirty looks I got from some of the fellas when they were made by thier daughters to preform some of the dancing gymnastics that Bailey and I do. Nothing fancy mind you. Just your standard under the legs over the shoulder sort'a thing. But the guys with heavy set daughters really didn't appreciate our showmanship. In closing I'd just like to thank Unka Jim for letting me know about the migration to Blogspot and it's my fondest wish to allways keep in touch with my waycool extended familey.