Well this is awkward...

Thing 2 loves to dance.  If one of her jams comes on the radio, she'll shake her car seat like it's the '89 World Series in San Francisco.  

A little while back we took the kiddos to Ripley's Aquarium in Toronto and as we stood in line, Uptown Funk starts blaring out of the sound system.  She stood there and shook her diapered ass like no one was watching.  Only hundreds of people were.  The grin on her face was priceless. 

I see a future full of recitals and expensive dance outfits.  Can't wait.

So anyway, because I love her so dearly, I signed her up for a free session of this thing called Salsa Tots.  It sounded harmless enough.  I envisioned a room full of two and three year old kids and lots of salsa music.  I could tolerate that for an hour no problem.

There was a problem though. Only two other kids capable of walking showed up.  The rest of the dozen little ones were strapped to their moms' chests.  Odd, I'm sure it said this was for kids aged two and three. But we stuck around. How bad could it be, right?  Naturally, I was the only male over 3.  I'm used to that by now.  My presence was neither welcomed or acknowledged.  I'm used to that by now too.

Seeing the turnout, the instructor announces that the demo class would now be half Salsa Tots, and half Salsa Babies. I assumed the Babies version might be slower beats or something like that.  We dance for ten minutes with the tots while the baby-toting moms do their best to look as inconvenienced as possible.  This is what you signed up for, ladies.  The instructor, sensing she's beginning to lose out on some subscribers decides it's time to switch demos.

Salsa Babies, as it turns out, is like a Zumba program for moms wearing their babies. Why any one would want to exercise with a baby attached to them is beyond my comprehension, but to each their own.  To me, it's weird. Now I tried to be a sport and hold all 25 pounds of Thing 2 to my chest and do some of these moves. I got some weird looks from the moms and Thing 2 alike.  This was awkward.  Clearly no one is comfortable in this situation. It was time for us to go.

So we did one of these:

Once out of the room, I frantically searched for our shoes in the entrance way, jammed them on our feet as fast as humanly possible and got us the hell out of there.  If she was upset about, thankfully she didn't show it.  I think she knew Daddy needed to leave.  For the good of everyone involved.

Oh the places we will go.