My little dancing queens had an opportunity to pay homage to their own musical idols yesterday. An ABBA tribute band was playing at Lock 3 and Dan's parents were kind enough to tote our little cherubs there to be infiltrated by the energetic disco beat.
When we told the girls that this would be their afternoon surprise, Ashlyn clasped her hands to her chest and gushed with joy, barely concealing the utter excitement attempting to split her in two. "Oh, they're my favorite! My very, very favorite!"
Why is ABBA their favorite? It's not exactly conventional 6 year old listening material. Eh, who's to say. It couldn't be because I have an affinity for all things ABBA myself, could it? Okay. It probably is. But let's face it, the beat is catchy. You put on Chiquita and you're going to smile. It will happen. Maybe not at first, but it by that last Sousa-like piano solo that leads the song out, you will be.
How I wish I could have seen them at that concert; they were singing, they were wiggling their hips. My Dancing Queens. Letting go and just loving the music and loving the fact that they were a part of it. Childhood at it's very very best.
If that's not a little bit magical, I don't know what is.
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