Thursday, May 21, 2009
Mater could not attend her uncle's birthday party last week when he turned eighty. She sent her regrets and hoped for a fine evening nonetheless.
The reports that poured in after the event were favourable: everybody had danced until the wee hours and much entertainment had been had before the conclusion near sunrise.
Then one guest confessed. They had all stayed awake so long because the birthday uncle danced, because he would not cease to spin and waltz, and because he moved as though at somebody else's four-score celebration.
As long as the hearty old fellow's lively routine carried on, none could face the shame of being the first to quit and retire. He out-danced all of them.
Posted by Phyllis Hunt McGowan at 1:54 PM