stephbg | Dance for me

Many (many) moons ago Husband and I took a few terms of ballroom dancing lessons. We had to give up during Silver Latin class after one mid-week jazz gig too many. The lessons were so jam-packed that skipping one put us both out of kilter for the whole week, and if you fell behind the herd in class you would be crushed. A couple of weeks like that and we were ready to kill each other from the stress. Ah, the dance! Thus was born one of our signature pet phrases "Your OTHER left!"

Sometime around this period I had the bright idea that a private tango lesson would make a romantic anniversary present. Sounds good, doesn't it? Private Tango Lesson. We'd theoretically learned the basics during class, but I had some romantic idea that we could reach The Next Level where it started to feel sexy and look a bit less like a drunken robot wrestling match.

Not my brightest idea. The early learning stages of the tango are a strange and awkward experience, and one expensive 45 minutes wasn't about to change that. Still, the thought counted, we laughed it off (eventually), and we're still married a long time later :-)

We now count that time in our lives as our first serious trial by fire. After that we built a house; also good relationship-testing stuff, but nothing compared to dancing lessons.

Anyway, we agreed last night to dust off the rumba some time this year, even if only in the privacy of our own home. I think this time around we'll be kinder to each other, but we're also going to "cheat" by practising the same choreographed routine so we can avoid the minor issue of leading.

Please share your tales of failed romantic gestures.