DailySusan Humor Blog

JELLY BELLY DANCING

One of my friends has taken up belly-dancing classes with her grown daughter, according to her Christmas card letter. There wasn’t a picture with it, unfortunately. I’d like to see her in one of those “I Dream of Jeannie” outfits, whirling dust rags around in the air like beautiful scarves, and clicking together her maxed-out credit cards instead of those metal castanets. Instead of a huge jewel in her navel, she would have her car keys, which she’s always losing, anyway. Hey! They’d be great! They’d jingle, jangle, jingle and add to the mystique!

If it were me in that belly-dancing class, they’d have to make sure all the other students were blind; anyone else would collapse laughing if they saw me trying to shake my voluminous tummy left to right while everything else was jiggling up and down. For every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. I’d build up so much leverage, I might just launch myself up through the roof.

Or maybe they’d need to put me in a remedial section – the bunny lane. I never could do the hula hoop or any kind of ballroom dancing; what makes me think I could get the rhythm down? Just having the hot blood of embarrassment course through my veins from being there would be exercise enough for my heart and lungs.