Chaperoning Alea’s middle school dance yesterday, I was struck by how old I had become.
No, not just because I really am old.
And not just because I didn’t recognize three-quarters of the songs.
No, it was because the other 25% of the music and dancing were all out of MY junior high days – obviously so long ago that they were too old to be anything other than retro-cool.
Seriously, between the “Beat It,” “YMCA,” and “Thriller” that were played, the breakdancing that was performed, and the Vans that were worn, I could have sworn we were back in the 80s.
But at least there were no leg warmers. Or skinny ties. Or parachute pants.
Or mullets.
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