Last night, despite the best efforts of the universe, Mr Stitches and I finally made it to a dance class.
We have been planning to go for some considerable time, but things just got in the way. Firstly it was the house renovations. Then we went to the class, but it was the wrong night. Then I got the lurgy, then Mr S got the lurgy and so on and so forth. You get the idea. Last night I tripped on the drive/my heel/whatever and nearly ruined the plan again. But, we made it.
And just how hilarious can it be. Fred and Ginger we are not! Unless its Fred Flintstone and Gingerbread biscuits! We tripped, but not the light fantastic. Mr S swept me off my feet….into a heap on the floor. We sweated. We stumbled. We didn’t stop laughing. With each other, rather than at each other. We had the most fun we’ve had on a night out in the longest time.
Today, we both ache. I have pains in places I didn’t think it was possible, and I have no intention of telling you where they are. And yet, I find myself practicing my waltz steps whilst waiting for the kettle to boil. I can’t wait for next week. I can’t recommend it enough.