As a young child, my family and I would go to many festivals during the hot summer days. My parents would dig my trusty Red Ryder Wagon from the storage and I knew exactly where we were going. I was always thrilled to be pulled around in that wagon. My parents would pack a cooler with what I now know as the “fun stuff” a.k.a beer and drape a blanket over the cooler.
Why the blanket you ask? It was a comfortable backrest, duh!
Or maybe a way for my parents to sneak beer into the festival, because what security guard would want to make my sweet face get up out of the wagon to check the cooler?!
Man, they were smart.
So here, we would be at these festivals, sitting under a shaded tree if possible, or sweating profusely in the blistering sun. I didn’t have a care in the world, sitting there with my elephant ear, beef on a stick, a snow cone, and whatever else I could get my hands on. I ate as if the calories would never catch up with me boy, was I wrong!
As soon the band would start playing, my parents would get up and start dancing. They would shake their groove things to any beat. Especially my Mom, my Dad he would try but his hips didn’t move like my mom’s. Then I would hear it…
”Your my brown eyed girl”
My mom would yank me up and hold my hands so I could dance, as she sang to me. Here I am probably 3 years old; shaking my ass a mile a minute, picture that. It should be easy given that to this day I still love to dance around like nuts!
I heard this song today while driving in the car, and almost had to pull over just so I could get out and dance. However, I contained my excitement and stuck with dancing in the car as best I could.
Each time I hear this song, I always think back to these childhood memories. Thanks Mom, for turning me into a dancing fool!