This weekend we are at a wedding in Wisconsin, Miss M's first formal affair. I have a two stories...
1. Dancing machine! Before they did the "first dance" they had the band play some rock music for all the kids that were running around the dance floor (lots-o-munchkins at this wedding). Miss M was right there in the middle of the mosh pit, no fear! She danced all four songs and then had to be dragged off the floor when it was time for the bride and groom to do their solo. She kept trying to run back on to dance with them. Next song after the First Dance was a Polka for the grandparents -- When Miss M heard that she immediately stopping trying to drag me back to the dance floor and went to play in the corner with her cousin. Guess she's not a fan of the oom-paa-paa!
- side story... in a sea of moving bodies under four feet tall, who is the woman trying to form a protective bubble around the lone baby on the dance floor, screaming "Watch out for the baby!" to every hopped-up kid that comes within 2 feet of her? Yeah, that's me.
2. I'm a human ATM machine. I was holding on to my room key card in the corner of my dress (under my bra strap) because I didn't have a purse with me. I was holding Miss M and she found the key tucked in my decolltage, yanked down my dress and whipped it out. Then spent the next five minutes continually replacing and removing the key card from my cleavage.
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