Car Dancing

Awwww.  Look at Dyl, back when he had cute, mowhawk-less hair.  I miss those days.  Sighhhh.  Seriously, he just keeps growing it and growing it and growing it, with no end in sight!

I wonder if he'll let it get as long as Glen Plake's hair was.  All the guys in high school thought he was so cool.  I thought he was an idiot.  I mean, he was a really good skier, but who spends good money on eggs and glue to get his hair to stick up like that every day?  Who takes that much time on their hair every day??

Not me. That's for sure.

Kay, so anyways, the following incident actually happened right after I took the above picture of Dyl.  I had just picked him up from Taekwondo, and it was just the two of us.  Taio Cruz's song, "Dynamite," came on the radio, and I squealed and turned it wayyyyyy up.  Seriously LOVE that song.  And then I proceeded to car dance, of course.  Singing at the top of my voice.  Doing the robot.  Raising the roof.  Doing Tai Bo punching moves.  Making my hands make waves in front of my face.  The usual.  Dylan shook his head and put it in his hands.

"What?"

"Mom, you are soooooooo embarrassing.  Your dance moves are actually shaking the car.  What if someone sees you?"

"First of all, I would be willing to bet that 99% of people never look at people in other cars.  I never do. And second of all, if I saw someone singing and car dancing, I would love that!  I would say, 'Good for you, dude!'"

"I don't think they would love it if they saw you.  I think they would think you were dumb."

"Oh Dylie.  There are two things you must know about me.  Number one, I am a car dancer.  Number two, I seriously, seriously, seriously don't care what people think about me.  Those are two very basic and major tenets of my personality."

He just squinted, shook his head, and looked straight ahead.

And I turned the radio up a bit louder, shimmied for a few measures, and then rolled my head around and around (to the beat, of course) with my hair in my face.  (We were at a stoplight.)