Dancing With Scars

Dance class 101 tonight. We've decided that between the Mountain man and I, we have four left feet and SIX funny bones.

We can't dance worth a lick...(well, that maybe a little harsh---) HE can't dance worth a lick, and I don't do solo. So basically, we're toast on the dance floor.

We are learning(?heh?) to do the cha cha, and I just know all of Latin America and South America AND parts of North America are in tears tonight. A simple little step---(quick, quick, sloooooow...quick,quick, sloooooow) and we are completely inept.

I've got two college degrees, and the Mountain Man is a whiz at all things trivia and Jeopardy related-together , we are the epitome of walking useless intelligence,...
(Really, just ask me what the capital of Wisconsin is......Madison....)
Turn on the music, and we are truly f***ked!
Mysuestories? It looks like a weird bird's ritualistic mating dance. And the Mountain Man? His cha cha looks as if he is trying to stomp out the entire population of cockroaches in a two foot space.

AND his idea of placing his hand on my shoulder blade for gentle directional guidance is to propel me in whatever direction his two left feet are currently taking HIM (Usually LEFT!). However, when he uses that handle on my shoulder blade to guide me home when I'm drunk? Perfectly OK. On the dance floor? Not so much.

Hmmmm. Maybe if we drink when we dance......
Stay tuned, constant reader. I've got an idea that will either have us Dancing With The Stars or Drunk With The Hobos......