We are playing in our playroom when Swee’Pea walks over to the keyboard we have in the room and hits the auto button that plays a jazzy tune on demand. Just like that the room transforms from a partially lit room littered with toys to a shadowy dance hall with dozens of onlookers.

Swee’Pea begins to dance by twirling her little body while simultaneously throwing her arms in the air over and up above her head. It is a close approximation to a pirouette but I’m fairly certain she has yet to see one in her 23 months on this earth. It must come natural to her. She closes her eyes with a half-smile on her face and continues to twirl. Every now and then she changes direction and uses the entire dance floor while she throws her head back and dances to the beat of cheesy jazz. She is dancing personified. Her carefree movements and joyful expressions make me proud to see that she is not afraid to express herself to the fullest in this modern interpretation of movement and spirit.

Suddenly, I look over at TheMonk who’s standing off to the side. He is quietly doing the White Man’s Overbite in time to the music. He looks at me and sheepishly smiles but keeps on grooving in the classic non-dancer’s pose: feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, fisted hands held out in front of his body with thumbs up as if ready to go for a run. And, of course, the overbite.

I’ll leave it up to you to decide which child gets his or her dancing ability from which parent.