Last night our friends got married. Uta was in no mood for a wedding, he wanted to stay home and build legos, but finally he agreed to come because of the likelihood that he could eat cake. When he arrived he claimed a spot in the corner and buried his nose in a magazine. He then conveniently used the magazine to hide behind when people tried to talk to him. At six being antisocial is still sort of endearing and some how, before the music even started, Uta's dance card was full. When the music did start, it was Uta who sought out one of the girls who had promised him a dance and said 'Lets go.' From that point on he was unstoppable. No fewer than ten strangers came up to me and asked some form of the question, 'Where did he get those moves?' I have no idea. Certainly not from me or Papa H, we were the only two wallflowers in the place, quick to confess we lack two essential characteristics to being a success on the dance floor, rhythm and nerve. But you can bet we were sitting on the sidelines proud as punch to see our boy eons ahead of us, dancing up a storm. He danced with the bride. He danced with the groom. He danced with the mother of the bride and the best man. He danced with old ladies and little girls. (Auntie Jen would have been proud!) People actually formed a circle around him while he did the robot. At one point he froze mid move for a good twenty seconds, people stopped and waited, stared, then he busted into another round of robot. His timing was perfect. A serious fan of Weddings and Michael Jackson was born last night. Uta sang 'Beat it' to himself all the way home.
Uta grabbed the camera and danced off with it. Here are a few of the pictures he snapped.
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