Who knew?

Last night, I pitched an idea to Capt. UberHusband which would surely make us the Internet sensation of the year. Hell, we could even wind up on The Soup!

The concept? He and I would do our own interpretations of the weekly dances on Dancing With the Stars, and put ‘em on the web. After watching Susan Lucci “do the Hustle” like one of those 4-inch tall plastic music box ballerinas, and Cloris Leachman “do the Salsa” like a samba (Corky! Quit grabbing her ass and boobs!), I realized CU and I couldn’t do much worse. We practiced a few “moves”, and then I remembered why we don’t dance.

When CU and I were engaged we got it into our oogly, googly heads (”Aw shucks, ain’t being engaged grand?“) that we should learn how to “dance” for the “first dance” at our wedding reception. None of that “And I’m climbing the staiiiiiiirwayyyyyy…to Heavennnnn” swaying back and forth nonsense, no sirree bob. We were going to really dance, the high-falootin’ kind of dancing where you count in your head instead of look at your partner.

So, we signed up for lessons. What a disaster. The instructor got frustrated that I wouldn’t let CU lead, and I got frustrated because CU wasn’t leading. What’s a girl to do? I can tell you what we didn’t do - we didn’t go back. Now that I think about it, our instructor might have been a young (and male) Cheryl Burke. After all, we were just lazy…and not trying. Why should he invest any time in us if we clearly weren’t there for the right reasons and had no interest in taking home the disco ball trophy? I mean, really now!

After a few minutes I realized there was no way CU and I could be as entertaining as Julianne & Cody or Kym & Warren, so I poured another glass of wine and watched Bruno tell Lacey she needed to pound Lance more. Really, Bruno?