Son’s preschool is having a Father’s Day concert next week. They’ve been practicing for it every day. There’s one song that Son loves. I can tell because he’s always singing it to himself. So much so that now I know it too, or parts of it.
So, it’s lunch time. Son is at the table and I am making myself a hummus melt. I’m joking around, singing Son’s song to myself, and dancing to it, “Boom shake it up, boom, boom, shake it up.”
Son jumps out of his chair. “No, it goes like this.” He stands and says, “Ready position!”. I look at him in surprise. He’s never shown me all the moves before, only hinted at them, shyly. In one second, he wraps his little arms around his body, rapper-style and bows his head, as though waiting for stage lights to come up. He stifles a giggle. Then, lifting his head, “Hip, hop, Father’s Day rock, let me see your left foot drop”. He steps once, awkwardly with his left foot. Then, “Hip, hop, Father’s Day rock, let me see your right foot drop.” No movement of the feet. “Boom shake it up, boom, boom shake it up”. Some kind of strange dancing movement that I think is supposed to resemble a shimmy. “Tell your Dad you love him so”, he points.
He’s so serious and so sweet, trying to get the moves just right. Laughter bubbles up inside me, not at him, just at his smallness and his earnestness and at the silliness of the song.
He stops. I start singing it again and he does the whole thing over. I want him to do it again, but I know if I start pressing him, he won’t do it anymore. I guess I’ll just have to wait for next week.
Boom shake it up, boom, boom, shake it up!