Dance Dance Dance

Jon and I were standing in front of Sasha's crib yesterday, having a conversation. I can not remember what it was about. (sorry Jon!) Maybe guns or gun laws? One of those topics that really gets him going. Sasha was standing in the crib, watching us. As each of us talked, she looked back and forth between us. I watched her as she would pip in with squeaks and squeals, as if she was adding her own opinions to the subject matter- a happy participant in the conversation.
But the topic hit a nerve. Jon proceded to break into a very long monologue. Sasha became annoyed. She tried to squeak her way back into the conversation, but she just couldn't catch a break in the conversation. When Jon was finished with his lecture, I kindly remarked that Sasha wanted in in the conversation but he was getting a bit too long-winded for her.
"She's talking to us, but you're not following the rules of conversation. Back and forth, talk then listen," I said.
Jon asked Sasha if she wanted in the conversation too. She squealed and started to dance.
He interpreted what she said as "Remember to take a break and dance, dance, dance!". Wisdom beyond her years. It meant something to him.
Remember to take a break and dance, dance, dance.
And baby girl, Daddy wants you to know that when you get older, and you're busy working too hard on school, Dad will remind you as well. "Remember to take a break and dance, dance, dance!"