I’m with Silas and still-pregnant Amy at Tot Time at a local rec center. The gymnasium is filled with toys; Silas loves to come here.
One wall is lined with bleachers where moms set up camp to watch their kiddos play. Diaper bags, purses, strollers, and shoes litter the rows of bleachers. While Silas is having a good ol’ time out on the gym floor, Amy and I are chatting it up on the sidelines (with watchful eyes, of course).
Something in the far corner of the gym catches our eye. An older woman—whom we shall call Fiona—enters alone; she brings no kids, only herself, to Tot Time. Fiona sets up a boombox, flips through a notebook, and stretches out her arms and legs. She hits play on her stereo and cranks up the volume; we can hear the rhythmic music loud and clear on our side of the gym.
Fiona begins an intensive aerobic workout. She’s got a whole routine, complete with claps, spins, and stomps. We can’t help but stare, and we definitely can’t help but laugh. We look down the row of bleachers; most of the other moms are watching and giggling too.
With the change of each song, Fiona turns to a new page in her notebook. Suddenly she is doing belly-dancing moves. We double over with painful laughter.
We just can’t imagine why Fiona chose to use the Tot Time gym for her ostentatious workout. “This is a blog post waiting to be written,” Amy says with a laugh. “I wish I had my camera!” I reply. Then I remember that I have a camera phone. Of course it has only minimal zoom…
I’m gonna have to get pretty close if I want a decent picture. So I’m off… And I’m on a mission.
Needing a decoy, I say to Silas, “Wanna go bounce that big green ball with Aunt Lizzy?” Of course he does. He heads across the gym, me close behind with my phone in my back pocket. I bounce the big ball; Silas chases after it and bounces it back. We inch closer to Fiona.
I’m only a few feet away. Fiona is facing the wall, with her back toward me. She starts shaking her butt as if she’s Beyoncé. I about pee my pants with laughter. I look back to the bleachers to see Amy wiping tears from her eyes. SNAP. I take a picture. I’m laughing so hard, it comes out blurry. SNAP. I take another.
Silas and I keep playing with the big ball, carefully staying in Fiona’s quadrant. In an attempt to roll the ball to me, Silas accidentally sends it right toward Fiona. I run after it, looking up at her as I go. Still facing the wall, Fiona spreads her arms out at her sides, leans slowly forward and backward, and shakes her boobs.
The ball rolls right into her leg and she turns around and faces me. Busted! I think. “Sorry about that,” is what actually comes out of my mouth.
I look down at Silas, who’d also run forward to catch the ball. He stops two feet away from Fiona, looking up at her. He sways and moves his arms. “Dancing,” he says. “That’s right,” she replies. “You can dance with me if you’d like.” Silas stands right next to her and together they get their groove on.
If I weren’t hunched over laughing, that picture would be worth a million bucks.
I look back at Amy again; the bleachers are shaking because she’s laughing so hard.
Just as quickly, Silas loses interest and runs over to me. Fiona doesn’t skip a beat; she jumps right back into her routine. I put up my hand as Silas approaches, and he gives me a high-five.
I get the feeling that he was in on this mission of mine all along…
