There are only a couple of things that can cheer me up when my mood has gone upside down and backwards and in a million bad directions. I mean really cheer me up. Not cheer me up while I chew - like dark chocolate with almonds can. Or cheer me up only while I'm sipping *gulping* wine. Or cheer me up for 15 minutes - like a really long extended play-on-pinterest-potty-break can. Or cheer me up like slipping on three-wears-without-washing jeans and for a brief moment thinking my clothes are getting loose. But really legitimately change my mood.
One is when my husband decides that my bad mood = the best mood he has ever been in. That always and I mean always does the trick. He may argue with this. He would be lying. There is nothing better than when your spouse is able to flip their mood to match (or I guess-in this case-not match) yours. It tends to make for much better weekends, nights, dinners, moments, parenting...you get the idea. On the other hand, when you and your notsopatient and sometimesmoody husband are both in a bad mood-watch out!
Another, and even more mood changing than anything, is a slow dance in the kitchen. Let me tell you now, if you are not already part of this phenomenon, this single thing can change your life. Really-it can. People say this about food. They say it about movies. They say it about books (this one has merit). They say it about all things really. Who are they exactly? (I digress). Anyway, I once saw a sign that said "this kitchen is for dancing" and it was then that I realized I was not the only one. I was not the only one.
Technically, I knew this already, as my parents were not strangers to this either. I remember watching them dance often when I was little-to no music at all. I remember mom being annoyed with dad each time he would pull her in close to him and start to sway. "Daaan" I am busy doing (insert pretty much anything here-since my mom did it all). But after just a few moments, the laundry basket would be on the floor, the sauce set to simmer, the homework books closed in place-and the dance would be in full swing. Dad grinning ear to ear, mom with tight lips fighting back her smile. Dad showing off his dance skills. He does this with all of us girls too, my sisters and I-and now grand babies are pulled into a slow rocking motion more often than they even realize. He hums or sings in their ears as they sway from side to side. My six year old, not unlike my mom, is always too cool or too busy to dance with Dado (his grand baby given name), but again, not unlike my mom, she succumbs to the dance rather quickly. Laughing and flailing about as he flips her around and twirls her. Grand baby dances are not quite slowdances per say. Nonetheless, each dance has the same effect. Any room in the house works, I guess, but there is just something about the kitchen. The linoleum/tile/hardwood resembles a dance floor much more closely than Berber. Ick. Berber. Dances in the kitchen, just, well, they just change your life. Your day at the very least.
I'm not sure I have stressed my point enough. So-I say it again. Slow Dance in the Kitchen y'all. Do it alone. Do it with your spouse. Do it with your kids. Do it with your girlfriends, or grand babies, or dogs-or whomever or whatever makes you happy. Just give it a dip, twist, or whirl-tonight!
