Not My Actual Feet
My pregnancies have left me with a variety of odd and embarrassing physical ailments. They range from a broken tail bone to a toe that falls out of joint to hemorrhoids and they show up to harass me at the most inconvenient times.
I tell you this to explain why I was standing at the pharmacy counter waiting for a prescription for FOREVER with my children in tow.
Usually I work in picking up prescriptions with the rest of my grocery shopping so we don’t just stand there waiting. Unfortunately, I required a prescription for a problem relating to the behind region and I needed to get this issue resolved quickly so I made a special trip.
This left me trying to find something to entertain my daughter while we waited for the pharmacist to finish his job.
It was at that point that the grocery store radio started playing a little James Brown. We started to “feel good” with our feet and my daughter loved it. Motown doesn’t get much airtime these days and my little one had never heard this particular song.
The fact that Mommy knew the song AND wanted to dance thrilled her. We were whipping out swing moves and imitating the “hardest working man in show business” right there in the Publix.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel so down about my broken down body. It can still bust a very small move when it wants to. And we were having a great time.
Sure, the other shoppers gave us a wide berth, but that was probably because they were awed by our dancing. So I plan to keep on keepin’ on when the music moves me–or until the pharmacist says “Ma’am, your procto-zone is ready.”