My parents relationship has been weird for the most of my life. For the majority of my youth and even today I was convinced that they were the "stay together for the kids" cliche in the flesh. I can vividly recall several times when my sisters and I considered who we would live with when after our parents' imminent divorce. But that night, watching them dance, my mother with her matching artificial hips and my father in his prematurely old man combination of khacki pants, blue blazer, and red tie, they actually looked like they liked each other. My sisters and I just sat there and watched, mesmerized.

I've never spoken to either of them about it and now, having written it down, I can't help but wonder if they remember this night the same way I do.

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I am not a huge fan of family weddings. I love my family dearly but I have never been able to small talk my way out of a paper bag. Forgive me for the muddled expression. This limits the enjoyment I get out of not only weddings, but also major holidays, large birthday parties, and family reunions. I'm great with strangers but for some reason I cannot seem to care about many of the inane things my relatives have to say to me while they, in turn, pretend to be interested in my job, friends, school, etc.

The one wedding that will always stuck out in my mind was probably ten years ago. One of my cousins was getting married, and honestly although I've narrowed it down to two, I'm not sure who it was. I remember nothing about the ceremony, less about the food, and I'm sure the conversation was just as uncomfortable as always. However, there was a D.J. Like there almost always is. And my parents danced.

My little sisters and I came back to the table, having just done that dance that everyone does to "Love Shack" with our little cousins. My parents were laughing in wonderment about how we just knew the best dances, or something like similar, that only parents can say without being offensive. And then some other song came on and my father asked my mother to dance. She agreed. They walked to the dance floor. They danced.

My parents relationship has been weird for the most of my life. For the majority of my youth and even today I was convinced that they were the "stay together for the kids" cliche in the flesh. I can vividly recall several times when my sisters and I considered who we would live with when after our parents' imminent divorce. But that night, watching them dance, my mother with her matching artificial hips and my father in his prematurely old man combination of khacki pants, blue blazer, and red tie, they actually looked like they liked each other. My sisters and I just sat there and watched, mesmerized.

I've never spoken to either of them about it and now, having written it down, I can't help but wonder if they remember this night the same way I do.

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http://www.memable.com/memories/65
every12seconds
2008-05-10