Do the Potty Dance

There was a time in my life when I went clubbing on the weekends. I spent hours getting ready. I had to choose the perfect outfit. Then, of course I needed time to pin my jeans. Right about now those younger than Generation X are scratching their heads. See, back in the day we made our own skinny jeans with safety pins. I believe I would use around 8 or so on each leg. What? That’s ridiculous you say? Well, at least it was only women. Who the hell decided that skinny jeans were a good idea for men? Sir, I don’t want to see the outline of your ball sack. I definitely don’t want my tween wearing those jeans. Yet, I can’t go into a store without finding “skinny”, “matchstick” or the “you might as well not even be wearing pants” fit. I digress. Back to my partying days. Let’s just say I looked fine with my curled hair and blue eyeliner. I went out and danced my ass off. Times have changed. Now, my idea of a good time includes Yoga pants and a movie where the stars are chipmunks. Tonight was epic. My daughter peed on the potty! I wasn’t in a club with spotlights, a fog machine or techno music, but I kicked up my heels. I did a happy dance with my 2-year-old daughter. It was the best Saturday night ever!