IT'S OUR TIME TO SLEEP TOGETHER

It's our time to sing together,

It's our time to sing together.

It's our time to sing together.

Sing hello, hello.

It's our time to clap together,

It's our time to clap together,

It's our time to clap together,

Clap hello, hello.

(One of the more popular songs at Andrew's dance class.)

Gah.

I took Andrew to his music therapy class last night where we met Mama and danced like bewildered gorillas for about 45 minutes.

I'm the only Daddy in the class. And I'm really only there to get shit to write about here. I dunno about you, but I'm tired of talking about church and my dog. Not that I don't missthe dog, but the initial grieving period is over. Wow. It was last Tuesday morning ... one week ago right now, that I wrote my last diary entry with Maggie by my side. It's ....WAIT A SECOND!! I SAID I WAS TIRED OF WRITING ABOUT MY DOG!

...What kind of mind games are you trying to play on me, Missy??

HMMMMMM???

So yeah ... anyway .... went to Kindermusik last night.

Four other kids showed up with their mothers. There was Taylor. We couldn't tell if it was Taylor the boy or Taylor the girl.

What is it with people naming their children whatever the hell they want these days? Aren't there any strict guidelines you're supposed to follow when you're naming your kid?

Half these names children are being born with these days ... I can't even pronounce them.

Met a kid named Heidren once.

Why in God's name would you name your child "Heidren". What possible nickname could you get out of that for your child besides "The Freak With The Fucked-Up Name"?

Hi?

That's about it. You could call the kid "Hi".

Hi Hi. How ya doin' Hi? Hey, Hi...Question for ya ....Feel like blowing your brains out just yet, Hi?

.....Anyway .... there's Taylor.

There's Baxter, Timbrook and Eagle-Eye, the native American child in the class.

And Andrew. My little freak with a boring name.

So we're dancing around slow ... and then fast.

Speaking as a heterosexual middle-aged man, you get over your initial fear of coming off looking like an idiot roughly around the third time that you go to the classes. By this point, everyone in the room knows I'm a man who can't dance and so I've lost all inhibitions and am dancing a really bad tango with my son in front of six lovely ladies.

At first I'll admit....I looked like Strom Thurmond on the dance floor ... barely moving or breathing. Just either standing there or sitting there with my facial expression reflecting the only emotion I had at that moment. Which was ... I really need to pee right now.

So we're out there, doing all these ignorant dances together. And it doesn't take long for Andrew to spot some of today's toys that they'll be playing with.

Most specifically ... the hula hoops.

Andrew loves hula hoops. He's got a morbid fascination with them. He sees them and he's GOT to have one in his hands.

He's not good at sharing right now. In fact, he sucks horribly at it. If sharing was a baby Olympic event, he wouldn't even try out for it.

He doesn't understand why if he sees something, he can't always have it. And when he finds out he can't have something, he falls to the floor and yells.

So for a good two or three minutes, Andrew wasn't clapping hello or ringing his ass around the rosey � he was laying on the floor throwing a fit because Mommy told him he couldn't play with the Hula Hoops.

Finally, when it was time to play with the hula hoops, he wanted to play with the bells.

This kid's on his own agenda.

I'm so tired this morning.

I woke up at 2:30 this morning and couldn't get back to sleep.

I got up and wrote what you just read but it makes little sense because I was only half awake.

Now I'm at work � about to pass out. I think I slept somewhere between 5:40 and 5:50 this morning.

I've got a TON of work to do this morning, so I'd better get on that now.

My God�it's 8:16 a.m. and I'm already dragging for the day.

Whee indeed.