Some of us started taking dance lessons yesterday, and as you've probably guessed we are already practically professional, and when I say "professional" I mean awkward, uncoordinated and hilarious. You'll probably notice I haven't included a photo in this week's post. That's deliberate.
Today I lucked out and got paired with the instructor. Last Friday, we missed the lesson when the instructor moved it up in order to go out in the evening. We weren't entirely clear on why he required four hours of preparation, although some of the boys suggested it might take him that long to peel his pants off, as his sartorial tastes lean towards a tighter fit than our boys are used to. Trousers notwithstanding, the man is an incredible dancer and I actually felt graceful tonight, and when I say "graceful" I mean marginally less likely to maim any of the couples dancing near me.
So I'm making progress. At this rate, I'll be channelling Ginger Rogers by the end of the week.