No Dancing at the Dinner Table!

By Daniel Errico

When Taylor was a baby, he wiggled his toes.

When Taylor could walk, he jiggled his hips.

When Taylor got bigger, he started to dance.

Taylor danced anywhere, everywhere, and no one knew why.

On the way to school, he tap-danced.

On the way back, he shimmied and shook.

Getting clean in the tub,

On top of his bed,

And out in the yard,

Taylor danced.

One night his father had finally had enough.

“No dancing at the dinner table!” he shouted.

But it didn’t stop there.

“No dancing in the car!” he yelled the next morning.

“No dancing in the store!” he hollered that weekend.

Until one day he said it, “NO DANCING AT ALL!”

But even if he wanted to, Taylor just couldn’t stop.

So when Taylor was in school, he tapped his fingers.

When Taylor was in bed, he hummed to himself.

And when Taylor was alone, he danced.

It was hard to find places to dance all alone.

He tried the garage, but the car made it crowded.

He tried the closet, but his clothes kept on falling.

Finally, he tried the basement.

And that’s where he found a small, dusty, crusty piano.

He tapped his fingers on the keys and hummed a tune.

Then the tapping turned into playing, and the humming turned into singing, and the noise turned into beautiful music.

Everyday, he played his song.

Taylor had never been so happy.

But one day his parents came looking for him.

“What are you doing down there?” yelled his father.

Without waiting for an answer they marched down to see.

“I’m playing my song,” Taylor replied. “The one I dance to.”

He was scared and nervous as he started to play for them.

But as he did, something began to happen.

His father started to jiggle his toes.

His mother started to wiggle her hips.

They were moving and shaking, and didn’t know why.

And then, they danced.

They danced around the room, they danced down the hall, and they most definitely danced at the dinner table!