..Plus An Unfortunate Incident on the Stairs.
Sometimes, my mouth and a tendency for saying ‘yes’ leads me into all sorts of situations. A friend’s mum is high enough up in the guiding association that she’s had tea with the Queen more than once. And it was in whose company I found myself offering my dance services for an internationally-themed Thinking Day.
It didn’t quite work out like that though. Instead I found myself in a field along with around 200 Brownies, teaching them how to shake it like a Bollywood diva in order to celebrate their 100th birthday.
As I’ve said before, I was never a Brownie. But although they’re still very good at picking their shit up and being very lovely, it’s also very different to what it would (should) have been my day: bouncy castles, archery, circus skills and a damn great climbing wall. I don’t remember my sister (who was a Brownie, in yet another act of sibling unfairness) doing any of that. And there I was, about to teach them to dance.
Although I used to teach dance to little people it’d been over a year since my last class. I’ve become a lot less fit over that time and faced taking six half-hour workshops over the course of the afternoon. In the blazing sun. And my actual Bollywood training has only ever amounted to one hour-long workshop at Move It back in 2011, plus a fair amount of time watching YouTube videos. I might have a gorgeous outfit that I bought off the internet, but I’ve never been to India. Oh, and, in my usual 11th hour way I’d only choreographed my routine at 7 o’clock this morning. All in all, GULP!
I rushed so fast through my first workshop that I finished after only 19 minutes of the half hour. Whoops. And it felt that I was facing the entire cast of Slumdog Millionaire.
A sea of expectant faces before me (although probably only about 30)…now, WHAT WAS THE NEXT MOVE AGAIN?!?!
But as the afternoon wore on I found my groove. I had the 30 minute thing down pat and I was getting great comments. Brownie leaders saying that even the kids who don’t normally join in were engaged, more leaders asking if I ran classes, both kids ones and adult ones, girls saying it’s been their favourite session (great considering the stiff competition to be had from the climbing wall and Loomz braiding).
But best was the reaction from one girl who, when I asked if they all liked dancing, gave a very blunt ‘No.’ But at the very end, as the Brownies were preparing for their well-deserved cook-out and I was heading off, she came running up to me: ‘Bollywood dancing is the BEST THING EVER!!!’
It looks like I’ll be doing more too. I already have two guide units interested. Yay!
* * * * *
Unfortunately though pride really does come before a fall. Quite literally in my case.
Straight from the Brownie thing I dashed round to the neighbours’ for their annual absolutely-hip-and-amazing barbecue. Highlight of every year. I didn’t want to miss out on a sausage, Plus Husband had failed to listen again and had expected me home hours earlier.
My haste was unfortunate though, as I really could have done with changing out of my slippy-on-hard-surfaces shoes.
When Noodles decided to take a wander around the neighbours’ house. I followed. No pity there – it gave me a chance to have a nose at their gorgeous decor. But coming back down was tricky. Their stairs have been beautifully renovated, but are all wood, ie slippery beyond fuck.
Noodles is still a little unsteady on stairs, so in my wisdom I picked him up. Two steps later my slippy-on-hard-surfaces shoe did its thing and slipped from under me. Keeping tight hold of both Noodles and my phone (because priorities, right?) I used my right elbow to slow my tumble, just at the hosts and their family waved people off at the door. I hadn’t even had a drink! Maybe that was the problem.
Personally I thought I did a very good job of not crying, because my GOD did it hurt! But Noodles was unscathed and actually not bothered, so it could have been worse.
Now back home (and still very much sober) my arm still hurts, worryingly, in the same way it did when I broke it in 1986 (World Cup Summers are not kind to me in more ways than one). Plus, along with the graze there seems to be a lump that’s not my funny bone.
With Boo having a dress rehearsal for her ballet exam tomorrow afternoon, I could do without a trip to A&E. Let alone having to spend any of the summer spent in some form of ugly bandaging.
Here’s keeping my fingers crossed that it’s just a bruise. And there I was thinking that I’d just hurt tomorrow from my Bollywood exertions today.