It was my fave time of the day. Dinner was over, the dishes were done. My father would make his way to the corner of our small living room. And the anticipation would mount as he sat on the wooden chair turn on the radio and pick his fave radio station. As the music began, he'd nod at me and the dance would begin. Round and round the small living room I'd dance, no longer a four-year-old with skinned knees and pigtails. Round and round I'd twirl. My hair came loose; my father's eyes twinkled. And I knew that I could do and be anything that I could imagine. Because I was, after all, a princess.
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