Elise and I just got back home. We had walked our dog, Garth, uptown to get his nails trimmed so he wouldn't be tap dancing around the house. On the way home, a motorcycle had stopped next to us at the stoplight. The guy driving wasn't like your brother or father... AKA a 'regular guy'. Instead, it was a rough looking motorcycle guy- complete with long beard, tattoos, and black leather. He was blaring 'Highway to Hell' (or something similar). Elise stopped walking immediately and broke into a dance-- legs moving, arms flailing, and a grin soooo big. That rough looking motorcycle guy started laughing and honked his horn. He had apparently approved of our 'tiny dancer's' show. And Elise enjoyed an impromptu performance. What's that phrase? 'Dance like no one is watching?'. Don't worry because she'll dance even if you are! That's my girl!
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