My parents have a group of friends that meet for dinner every Friday night. These guys are hilarious, and can party more than your average fraternity boy. But my girls put them to shame. They danced. They boogied. They did the cha-cha slide, the hokey pokey, some random toddler disco moves and refused to leave some poor woman-dressed up as Tigger alone.
The best part? My Mom always gets up early and took Annie and George off for some fun while Lucy and I slept until 9:30. That has not happened in years. And it felt really, really good. We left for home this afternoon, just in time for my folks to rally before hosting 16 people for bridge. I realized this weekend that my parents' social life outruns mine by a lot.