Dances with Wolves in Sheep's Clothing

As a kid I was never much of a dancer. As a matter of fact, I pretty much remember me having two left feet.
The sixth grade Sadie Hawkins dance at School #1 was pretty much an ordeal for me. I was nowhere near as pretty as most girls , and ions behind in the busting out of my training bra department. Just about, all of my sexual prowess was limited to playing spin the bottle or the screwdriver or the hammer or whatever other oblong instrument could be found in the dirt floored basement of one of my classmates wooden garage.
My date, or at least the one I chose to ask (it WAS Sadie Hawkins, after all) was in the band playing that night in the gymnasium, so needless to say that was also a bust as far as dates go.
And so it goes that dancing was never my forte.
Fast forward twenty (oh OK, already!) thirty years later, and I've managed to get by with a few slow dances and the occasional Electric Slide.
I've danced at a few weddings (mostly my own!), and I have not yet embarrassed myself off a dance floor (the same cannot be said about a karaoke microphone!)

And so tonight, for no real reason at all, the Mountain Man and I will be appearing at our local high school for our first ball room dancing lesson. Yep, Mrs. Two Left Feet and Mr. I Dance Like the Rain Man will be cutting a rug in less than thirty minutes.

I'd better bring scissors!

From BILL GATES MEETS THE RAIN MAN