My dad and mum were professional ballroom dancers. They had studios throughout Sydney and taught dancing all their working life. Dad was obsessed with dancing and had to mention dancing in every conversation, it was embarrassing. He would practice alone, up and down the front verandah and the school bus stopped right there in front of our house.
I always got off at the bus stop before and walked home. After school one day a friend missed his bus and asked if he could stay at my house.
He asked what my father did for a living. I told him my dad was “a nut case” and every day he was something different, sometimes a builder, sometimes a doctor and sometimes a truck driver and we never knew what he was going to be next.
He then asked what my father was this morning when I left for school.
I told him my dad was a ballet dancer this morning.
While sitting in my bedroom my dad appeared, as I knew he would,
he was dressed in black tails.
My dad asked me to button-up his tails while he told us he would be dancing tonight and giving an exhibition at the Mayor’s ball.
My friend was wide-eyed but said nothing. A few minutes later a car went down the driveway. My friend asked who it could be and I told him it was my dad going dancing. He replied “he’s really bad you know, you should get him locked up”