The Night the Preacher Danced // Positively Speaking // Mark Wilson

Last Friday evening, I took my nine year old daughter, Hannah, to the Father-Daughter Ball in Duluth, in the Greysolon Grand Ballroom.

We dressed up to the hilt, and I bought her a tiara and a corsage.

My little princess and I had a splendid time together!  After a delicious banquet, we danced the night away!

We did the “Chicken Dance”, “The Hokie Pokie”, “YMCA”, “The Limbo” and three wonderful hours worth of other numbers!

At the end of the night, my feet were really sore, and Hannah beamed from ear to ear.  It was one of the best experiences we’ve ever had together.

Now, there’s an unspoken rule somewhere that Wesleyan preachers aren’t supposed to shake their legs like that — but on Friday night, I followed a higher law, and am a better daddy for it.

When we walked into the crowded ballroom, I saw another Wesleyan pastor with his little girl on his arm.

So, if I’m ever called before the Sanhedrin on this, at least I’ll have good company, and maybe we’ll give them a demonstration of the Chicken Dance.

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