Waltz, Foxtrot, Rumba . . .

My parents are taking dancing lessons. Initially, this was an embarassing point. The thought of my father "sweeping" my mother off her feet had originally made me want to hide. But now, I'm getting used to the fact that my parents have a life outside of my own. I suppose I've been going through this phase as a married man, where I recognize the necessity for a private moment with one's soul mate.

I swear, growing up, I had never seen my parents hold hands, let alone kiss. Now, whenever I see them walking side by side, they're hand-in-hand. Oh don't get me wrong . . . my dad still tries to shout conversations with me while I'm speaking with my mother on the phone. They still have their tiffs, their spats, their disagreements. But now, I can see them as a married couple and not just my parents.

I tried calling them tonight, but I then remembered it's dance night. I'll call tomorrow.

Oliver de la Paz