That Tiffany song. You know the one. It played in sixth grade at my first school dance.

There I stood for the first time in close physical proximity to a female who didn’t birth me and in a way that would’ve said, “Hey there, beautiful,” if a chubby boy in a peach knit cardigan sweater and a regrettable volume of Drakkar Noir could have exuded such a brand of clumsy middle school pre-sexual energy.

These are not memories I reflect upon so often that they spill like spring rain from an overly saturated flower pot. These faint brush strokes and passing scents remain with me after a quarter century of neglect. So much new and good has come that there isn’t room for what won’t promote growth. Onward and upward. Everything else goes overboard.

This is awkwardness in retrospect, the opposite of nostalgia. I didn’t enjoy my grade school career, to put it bluntly. That first dance was a tidy microcosm of my school life. Mostly alone. Portly. Embarrassed, before I knew what meaning the word could hold. And with a girl who, rightfully, didn’t see me as a threat. It would be years before I’d realize this was the role of a lifetime.

My 10-year-old daughter has her first school dance this Friday evening, a sock hop with music from her grandparents’ heyday on the cutting-a-rug circuit. She’s over the moon with excitement, as am I, for her.

She’s said some kids are asking each other to the dance, less a date, from what I understand, as it is a ritual of accompaniment. No one wants to be alone. She has asked a friend, a girl, if she’d “go with her.” That’s great because none of the fifth graders will likely have full dance cards.

This dance will be charming in its formality. Bow ties will be straightened by moms who’ll find it damn near impossible to keep their hands from shaking long enough to capture a single clear iPhone photo to commemorate the night. Car doors will swing open and glittering silver-and-black shoes will clatter down the concrete walkway to the grade school gym while dads drive back home in cars emptied of their most precious cargo. I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.

As I write this, it is Tuesday afternoon. I sit here anxious for the 8 p.m. Friday pickup time to arrive. But not because I want my daughter to stop dancing. It’s because I cannot wait to listen as she puts her head on my shoulder and recounts the entire Technicolor evening in hi-def detail.

Those will be memories worth letting soak in for a quarter century or more.

+ + +

This blog post, which first appeared here in 2017, is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com.

A version of this first appeared on Out with the Kids. First dance photo: gsdsw via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-SA)

We’ve been working with Eileen Levine, the Director and Founder of Creative Play for Kids, for over a year to set up an opportunity for the NYC Dads Group to try this very well-regarded program. Thank you very much to Eileen for inviting us to try Creative Play for Kids. Here is a guest entry from an increasingly active member of our group, David L.

It was almost too cold a day to head into NYC from Jersey City, but I’m glad Penny put up with me bundling her up to go to this week’s Meetup with Creative Play for Kids. New Jersey actually had a great turnout at the event, accounting for about half of the attendees. Yeah, Jersey! Of course, Penny was so cozy and bundled that she fell fast asleep during the (longer than I realized) walk from the Path Train.

The class started and mine was still snoozing. She eventually (and happily) woke up to the sweet sounds of singing and rattle-shaking. In no time at all she wiped the sleep out of her eyes and joined in the fun. That first song was about starting and stopping (shake, shake, shake and freeze!), with all the children picking up the choreography almost immediately. After more dancing and jumping to music, out came the bubbles! And who doesn’t love bubbles? Seriously, try not to join your kid in popping bubbles when it’s bubble-popping time.

This was followed by an enthusiastic reading of Polar Bear Polar Bear What Do You Hear. To gear up for the story, the teacher (who was joined by a guitarist) introduced and handed out various animal puppets. Impressively, she was able to give each child a puppet without anyone crying, grabbing or getting too impatient. While hugging their animal puppets, the kids joined in reading the story, adding an adorable – if not always accurate – soundtrack. The day ended with some free-play. In addition to a bag full of bouncy balls, there were soft blocks for building, and a small tunnel to get momentarily lost in.

Creative Play kept the kids thoroughly entertained and involved, and allowed the dads to relax, participate, and just hang out and chat. This was a fun event and definitely worth the trip from Jersey.

Check out the Creative Play website to get more information about the program and find a location near you!