“Attention everyone, this is the Countess speaking…” Oh LuLu, you irrepressibly self-centered (self-deluded?) little housewife, you!
I bring up the Lady Barry White as a graceful segue into my slight obsession with reality tv. Especially anything bearing an Andy Cohen production credit. Whether it be cooking, decorating or matchmaking (none of which I do, by the way), the fine, fine people at Bravo TV have us all covered. Let’s just leave it at the fact that the Kiddos recognize the “Bravo song” when Britney’s “I Wanna Go” comes on the radio, shall we?
During the summer, my interest spreads to FOX and So You Think You Can Dance. (Spin-off idea – the crazy goings on in the house the contestants live in. Come on, we all know some freaky-deaky stuff must be going down there.)
While last night was no exception – didn’t quite love the Sasha/Melanie routine as much as Gaga did despite my utter lack of anything resembling dance training – the evening did bring one exciting development.
My husband made up a dance move.
Now, I freely admit that Husband has a much better sense of time, space and movement than yours truly. He sprained his ankle during his freshman year of college and danced better on crutches than most of his fraternity brothers. However, one must have a certain….appreciation for the fact that one’s college years (and college agility) concluded over ten years ago.
I don’t know if it was the excitement of the reappearance of Neil or what, but all of a sudden Husband decided to leap off of the couch and…. spin…while … kicking up his … right leg. Arms akimbo (but jazz hands splayed), the move concluded when Husband threw the left leg desperately after the right.
The end result can be best described as, um, bended leg movement. With a twirl. Not quite sure that he will be on the Hot Tamale Train any time soon.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Husband!
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