My youngest son is one outgoing, impressionable ten-year-old. A few months ago I showed him a viral video of the BYU mascot doing a dance with the drill team for a football game’s half-time. In the middle of the dance somewhere they do a move I’ve always heard called “flossing.” It’s where put your hip between your straightened arms then shake your hips back and forth while your arms circle in front of you until they get to the other side where this hip will also go between your extended arms. This move can go on and on, from one hip to the other. Anyway, my son got such a kick out of it he’s been determined to get this move down for himself. At the most random moments—in stores, wrestling tournaments, while walking to school—the attempt to floss will start. His arms and hip wiggles are so extreme it’s hilarious to watch. Without fail he always says something like, “I think I’m getting it now.”
Oh, sweet love, he’s nowhere close to getting it, but I’m enjoying myself so much I bite my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing. “Mm-hmm, keep trying.” Any mom would be insane to deter this kind of entertainment.