My baby brother got married this weekend in a lovely ceremony. The reception was a blast. Man, I haven’t laughed so hard in years. Even the DJ said we were his most fun crowd. Of course, sometimes he thought we were cheering over his music choices, but no. We clapped and yelled every time someone had to go to the restroom.
We’re uh, mean like that.
So, we were joking about chair dancing and one of our friends said he wanted to take a chair onto the dance floor and have his wife dance around it. We were laughing pretty hard over the image when my mother said something smart and he dared HER to do it.
SHE DID IT.
My mother danced around his chair. Her friend joined after a minute, so he had two women boogieing around the chair while he just pointed his fingers and chin back and forth. Then my sister, who is a FANTASTIC dancer stunned us all with her moves and danced with the best man who had the bride’s elastic garter around his head.
(My brother had crawled under his new bride’s dress to remove it with his teeth.)
As we were leaving, my ten year-old son did the worm across the entire dance floor. The DJ announced he’d be signing autographs afterward.
I danced with friends, watched my parents dance together, danced with my father. It was just genuinely wonderful.
After all this, the whole family ends up at my parents’ house. I’m talking more than thirty or forty people. We’re all sitting around in different areas of the house and a bunch of women end up down in what used to be the pool room. We’re sharing stories and of course, laughing hysterically over something one of my aunts had printed from an email. We start talking about health stuff and I bring up a sleep issue I’ve been having. I have several aunts there but one of them shushes the room and holds out her hands. “Give me your foot.”
Oh no. I’ve seen what happens to others who’ve trusted their feet to her. I’ve managed to spend years avoiding this torture. Last night I caved. I don’t know why. Maybe because chronic insomnia, while useful for a writer for a while, tends to blur life after an extended period of time.
My aunt is a reflexologist.
No, that’s not entirely true.
She’s a reflexologist and A SADIST WITH INCREDIBLY STRONG HANDS and a knack for finding your body’s problem areas by sending you into a haze of pain like nothing else!
I’m talking pain, people.
I was yelling and holding onto the back of a chair. Everyone came in from outside and the kitchen. They gathered around to enjoy the show of torture. Seriously. They poured drinks and carried the party on around me. She found my problem areas and honed in. I’m gasping while squirming to get away. Someone brings me wine and I can barely get the liquid past the screams and tears. When she hit certain spots, I came up off the chair and yelled very non kid friendly words. The aunt merely smiled and told me my thyroid is causing me problems.
I could have just told her that already! <g>
But I have to say, I slept wonderfully. I still woke up at three-thirty, but I slid back to sleep and didn’t wake the other two or three times. Today, I am so relaxed, it’s amazing. There is something to this reflexology. You can read about it here. I was thinking I’d never put myself through that again, but I really do feel well today… With a clear head and a free day, I hope to get my critiquing caught up and get some writing of my own done. 😉