When was the last time you did a Happy Dance? Every time B gets good news, she wiggles her tiny three-year-old body into a little Happy Dance. There’s no consistency whatsoever—whether in the dance itself or from one to the next. It consists of face beaming, arms wiggling, knees bending, feet stomping, butt wagging, head shaking and the occasional jazz hands. Watching this little Happy Dance just breeds joy… Anyone who sees it can’t help but grin, and even strangers have stopped to comment on what a happy child she is.
Whether you tell her she doesn’t have to make her bed, she can have ice cream after dinner, you’re throwing her a birthday party or she’s going to Disney World—the result is the same. An infectious little Happy Dance that makes you feel as though you just won the lottery and found out you were the long lost royalty of Sweden.
I rarely do Happy Dances anymore. When I get good news, I smile; it makes me happy, but I don’t Happy Dance or squeal or get all excited anymore. I realized that yesterday, and it made me sad. I think that we could all use a lot more Happy Dances in our lives, and next time B gets some good news and starts to do a Happy Dance, I just might join her.
This Thursday I’m thankful for good news in every shape, form and fashion. Both yesterday and today, the Hubs has told me some really good news, and it’s made me happy. I’m thankful that he’s my Hubs, and I’m thankful that he’s excelling where he is. I’m thankful that all the hard work and all the hours he’s put in over the past 15 months are starting to pay off.
Most of all, I’m happy that he’s happy about it.
I might even do a Happy Dance… with a jazz hands finale, of course.
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