So … my granddaughter came for a weeks visit …. not to see me … (joke) … but to attend Steps by Stephanie’s Dance Studio Princess Boot Camp. I’m not sure what year this cool summer camp began, but oh what a brilliant idea. My grand attended last year and loved it so much she begged to attend again. These are week long, all day camps with a different theme each week. This weeks theme was Soda Pop Bop, but some of the other themes, which those dates didn’t work out for us were: Say Yes To the Dress, Mad About The Mouse, Positively Purrfect Pets, and Beauty and The Beat, to name a few.

We knew in advance there would be a Mother/Daughter Sock Hop one evening, so not wanting to be outdone, I began planning my outfit the minute I became aware of the evening dance. Oh, I was outdone alright, but more on that later.

Each day 73 (wow) girls between the ages of three and eleven gather from 9am to 4pm. They enjoy a variety of activities from crafts to dance lessons to … bedlam! Complete and utter chaos! How do I know this? Well, I walked in mid-afternoon for an early pick up one day and all I could think was … man do they ever have this down to a fine art or science or whatever school subject you want to pick! And to think I once thought I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher! The noise level of 73 little girls dancing and singing would require ear plugs had I stayed very long!

On this particular afternoon they were performing karaoke to Disney movie songs. And my granddaughter was in the middle of her stage performance (yes, on a stage) … doing a horrible rendition of How Far I’ll Go from the Disney movie Moana … completely tone deaf! She cannot possibly be MY granddaughter because I have perfect pitch and tone when I sing in our church choir. But this is how I know she’s my little angel … she was mumbling the words to most of the song (as in, she didn’t know the words to most of the song) but when she came to the chorus oh my, oh my, she belted out loudly and clearly, so off key me and the camp director had to plug our ears. But nightclub pitch black with disco balls circling in air, she did not see us. I did ask could they please add voice lessons to next years camp agenda, to which the camp director laughed.

Anyway, finally the evening arrived for the Sock Hop. I had worked all afternoon at my paying job, which included five and a half hours standing on my feet. These old arthritic knees could barely get my big-boned frame to the car. How in the world would I manage dancing at The Hop?! Oh … I would soon find out.

After getting home and dressing for the dance, my grand happened to notice that my costume included bobby socks and mine weren’t just any old socks. Mine had poodles embroidered on the ankles. Her costume did not include socks and she began to cry when she realized she was going to a “Sock” Hop without socks. Somehow I usually manage to stay a step in front of her, as in predicting her behavior and what I need to do to prevent meltdowns, but I was slacking today! Shame on me! What to do? What to do? I found some pink socks that matched her pink poodle skirt. Meltdown abated. Score one for Grandy!

We arrived to The Hop and several things happened. First and foremost, the noise level was unbelievable from all these little girls running around like wild Indians chasing balloons and “hopped” up on “soda” (Coca Cola … thank you … you’re about to be in a hostage take-down Miss Stephanie because I’m hijacking your cute little red-scarf- in -the pony tail butt and taking you home with me to get my little wild Indian settled down for bed!)

The next thing that happened is I began to look around the room. How could I forget that I was the Grandy and not the mom. Oh! It quickly became apparent! Here amongst all the screaming wild Indians are these thin, beautiful moms wearing tight jeans and Pink Ladies jackets with high heels and a scarf in their hair. (Wanted to tell everyone I’d be right back. Left my walker in the car! Because it was quite evident with the exception of my genetically clear, youthful complexion I was the hee haw mamaw looking quite out of place). Really? This is a Sock Hop and none of these ladies had on socks … I suppose socks would destroy the look of their sexy outfits. Yep, me in my bobby socks and poodle skirt were outdone for sure. But then Miss Stephanie approaches me and says, “Well! Look at you! You’ve obviously been looking forward to THIS, haven’t you?” No longer beaming with the pride that I was the only one that got the memo for appropriate Sock Hop attire, I politely smiled and nodded my head yes. Oh this chick is going down, I thought. The nerve serving “my kid” syrupy, sugary soda right before bedtime and then teasing me on my appropriate dress, yep, going down! About that time a lady came over and introduced herself and said she had noticed me the minute I entered the room and how authentic and cute I looked and how no one got the memo on how to dress for a Sock Hop. To think I didn’t pay her a penny like I do most people when they compliment, my ego was as big as my smile!

Now to find my Indian .. er, my “bopper” … to dance. Nope. Nowhere to be found. Oh wait, there she is running amuck as if she’s never been to a dance before in her life. Finally, she finds me and introduces me to the little girl that I had been planning on bopping if I ever laid eyes on her, as she had bopped my grand in the mouth the first day of camp because my grand denied her the pleasure of playing with her long, luxurious dark brown hair. I had been waiting all week for that moment to misbehave and act like a teeny bopper. Who was this little girl to hit my granddaughter? Why of course! She is the little girl who now is my granddaughters best friend! Kids! One minute they are best friends and the next minute they are hitting one another. I can’t keep up and at my age I really can’t keep up!

The evening progressed along as we did the twist and the sprinkler and the wiggle your booty (grand … not me … hard to dance with a walker!)  to Wake Up Lil Susie, Peggy Sue, Why Do Old Farts Think They Can Dance after working all afternoon … er,  I mean Why Do Fools Fall In Love and Chantilly Lace (Bop Hop socks!) Listening to all that fun music made me think how much I would have enjoyed being a teen in the 50’s when all this music was so popular and how much humor I found in my granddaughter talking about 50’s music as if she was an expert. I mean this kid gave me off key singing lessons on the way to The Hop and said she couldn’t understand why I didn’t know all the words to Wake Up Lil Susie! to which I replied “hush up ya little twit before I Bop you in the mouth like your little frienemy did!”  Nah, I didn’t really say or think that but makes for a great addition to the story, dontcha think?

Finally, after an hour of dancing the night away, we headed home with my Saddle Oxford feet hurting and my little precious .. hair a mess from dancing – soda ring around the mouth bopper. And as I was tucking her into bed she looked up at me and smiled and said, “Grandy. I love you so much. Thank you for going to The Hop with me tonight”. Oh goodness … melt my bursting out of my chest heart! And then I asked her what was the best part of the dance. “The soda, of course, because my mama never lets me drink soda!” What a hoot!

What fun we had! But next time I’m getting skinny jeans and a Pink Ladies jacket. Don’t like being out done … nope not one little bit! Now, after a deep slumber from all that dancin’ this old grandma is trying to “Wake Up Lil Susie”! Coffee … I need coffee!