Happy Dance

Here are my feet.  My happy, happy dancing feet.

I don’t love the UPS guy in any way like I love my husband, but yesterday I luuuved the UPS guy for delivering a NEW LAPTOP and I loved my husband more than describable for surprising me with it.  I suppose Dan felt guilty because he has a laptop with all its portability, while I’ve been fastened to the Big Boy computer in the front room where the summer daytime temperature reaches a thousand degrees Fahrenheit by nine in the morning and only escalates through the day.

But picture me now.  It’s morning.  I’m seated at the kitchen table with air conditioning fluttering across my shoulders.  Later, I might move in front of the TV with a cool glass of iced tea tableside.  This afternoon, you might find me at my favorite coffee joint.  You know, the one with the big tables and comfy chairs where I can join all the other peeps tapping at their laptops.

I’m trying very hard to keep my feet still, but every now and then, they simply break into the Happy Dance.  Kind of like that Hans Christian Andersen story, The Red Shoes, about a woman who can’t stop dancing.

Nah nuh nah naaah, Nah nuh nah naaah, Hey heeey, Nah nuh naaah.

P.S.  The picture above isn’t really of MY feet, but rather a photo courtesy of Brand X Pictures.

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