Bird Dance of the Hunter

My cousins (Heather and Sara) were visiting a couple of weeks ago, and they brought Heather's seven-year-old Madison and two-year-old Hunter. First of all, this was an insanely fun and insanely dysfunctional week. Many, many, many things went horribly awry. But, overall, I'm hoping we'll remember it fondly.

Actually, I know that I will. Because what I keep thinking back on was the little old man bird dance.

The Saturday night that they were in town, I had my friend Annette (who is also from Texas) over and we made pizza. Well, more accurately, Annette (who has taught the first grade and was really, very good at it) and Madison made the pizzas.

Hunter has a touch of what the professionals call "separation anxiety." Translated for the lay person: he screams like he's being pinched every time Heather leaves the room. Sara did that when she was a kid, which we remind her of constantly. No reason to add that. But she did. Remember that, Sara? We do.

Anyway, while we're hanging out watching Nette and Maddie make the pies, Heather is slipping out the back door every so often to get some laundry done before they had to leave the next night. At one point, we're all in the living room and Heather slips out. This time, Hunter observes this, and starts to get a little worked up. Annette observes this and the fact that five seconds before Hunter had been randomly sprinting around the room. So, being the amazing child communicator that she is, she too starts randomly running around the room.

She's running around and she's yelling that this is really fun, that she forgot how much fun it was to run around willy-nilly. And, needless to say, this has gotten Madison and Hunter's attention, and they both need little encouragement to adopt the willy-nilly behavior as well. And here comes the absolute best part of the evening.

As a part of the general merriment, Hunter starts doing this little dance. Picture what a little old man looks like when he's hunched over, and has his hands clutched together behind his back. Now picture a two-year-old imitating that while kind of marching in circles. Yeah, it was that awesome.

There's this little man who's caught the vibe that it's time to get silly and is offering his contribution. He's got this look of concentration as he slowly turns, arms behind him, bent at the waist. This little purposeful revelry.

That was, by far, my absolute favorite part of the entire week. This sweet, quiet boy who can read a room and entertain it perfectly, all the while keeping an eye on the back door and the return of his number one fan. (Who upon entering with her load of clothes, saw us laughing to the point of tears and asked, "Did Hunter do his bird dance?")