Dance, Daddy, Dance

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Dance. Dance. Dance. Please Daddy don’t stop. Never stop.

Dance on the surreal dance floor where energy ends and spirit begins where willpower conquers all.

There was a time I begged you to stop. Not out loud. I showed no disrespect. But in my heart.

I was shy. Adoring Daddy yet all too aware of convention. And you were… you. Energetic quirky and utterly oblivious to the shoulds and shouldn’ts of polite etiquette. When a sheva brachos ambience turned monotonous and the newlywed couple was in need of some laughs who was to stop you? You leaped right up onto the table running the length and breadth of the fancy simchah hall. You clowned around. I watched aghast. Everyone else laughed.