Sharing the Polka with the Younger Generation

SuperMousey is describing the fright I gave her when “Aunt B. grabbed my arms and we ‘danced’. She jumped, I went flying.”

Yep, that tends to be how it goes.  Just wait until it’s some cute old European man who smells vaguely of stale tobacco tossing you around the room.  That’s when it gets really fun.

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