To tap things off this month, I started my dance class. I'm on tap of the world, the tap dog, at the tap of my class, tap o' the mornin' to ya... tap that one. Good grief.
What a great leg-workout, and hokey and fun to boot. Imagine stomping about on a wooden floor to a song called Carrot Stew, a dance that conjures picnic plaids, poofy skirts, pantalettes, and pig tails. Sure, I'll start with clogging, but I'll need to add true tap dancing at some point if I'm to continue my rappity-clackity-dancity-fantasy.
Watch Eleanor Powell go. That ain't no clogging costume either.
It would be extra cool to mix tapping with swing dancing. Oh if I had nothing else to do than dance all day.
