This school year, we established Friday afternoons as official “Dance Parties,” when we’d spend about twenty minutes at the end of the day letting the kids dress up in costumes and sing into “markerphones” and build stage lights out of blocks and mostly just completely lose it. It’s become something everyone really looks forward to, and now that Wednesday is the last day of school, the kids were worried we would never have another Dance Party.
Today, they asked if we could have an afternoon DP, and we told them that we might not have the time.
Some minutes later, we had this missive silently passed across the table to us:
No or Yes or Maybe, with “Yes” conveniently already checked off.
Again, we said we probably wouldn’t have the time.
We told them we were sorry, but it would still probably have to wait until tomorrow.
And then we received this:
Which was, of course, too pathetic to ignore.
So we had a Dance Party.
And the last note of the day was:
The year’s Dance Party Playlist, made up exclusively of songs requested by the five-year-olds in our class: