But you might not know that my macho man husband is only half macho. There's the half that works on engines, rides a motorcycle, kills insects without fear, cuts things up with a chainsaw, and hunts Bambi's dad.
Then there's the half that secretly likes to shoe shop and drink Cosmopolitans with me. Oh, and swing dance.
You should've seen him, people. He was a wonder!
We learned the foxtrot, and he squashed my toes. We learned the waltz, and he kept stepping with the wrong foot.
But swing? He caught right on!
The weird thing is, swing is harder than the other dances. But somehow it just feels right together. We had the best time learning the turns, botching them a lot at first but then – oh the feeling when it’s right!
Now I want to become swing dance champions. These lessons (taught by the Tuscaloosa Ballroom Dance Club) only give us two weeks of training on each dance, but I don’t know if I’ll be ready to give up swing after just one more week.
The club offers intermediate rumba and swing lessons at 7 p.m. after our 6 p.m. beginner lessons, and I’m trying to talk Darwin into going.
His macho half is resisting, and I’m dragging the other half out into the light.
(Happy 4th Anniversary, honeypie!)