Lord of the Dance (or getting there ...)

I'm Irish.
Want to know who else is Irish?

Michael Flatley. As in Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance. The guy who, let's be honest, got made fun of a LOT at the height of his popularity.
Know who else is Irish?
My son.
Who believes he is Michael Flatley.
If we are being honest, I will admit that I have never been to ireland, probably don't have any living Irish relatives, and really don't even know much about being Irish. I just cling to that heritage because I have the colouring (dark hair, pale skin), I have a temper and St.Patrick's Day is an awesome holiday to claim. And, I will even drink Guiness if it's forced on me.
So when Matt came to me asking to take Irish Dance classes with his cousin I thought that it was the perfect fit for us.
Kind of.
Mike doesn't love the idea of Matt being in a dance class.
I'm embracing it but a little scared of the reprucussions of having my boy in dance.
But ...
He's good.
He had his first class yesterday and the child can dance!
He walked right in there and just copied the teacher and went for it.
I won't say he was as well-behaved as the girls.
He didn't listen terribly well and he tended to run around a bit.
But that's Matt - and I can't change that.
What I loved was the excitement.
While some of the little girls were hanging back, not ready for class, Matt was in there showing everyone his stuff. Seriously. He has mastered the arms by his side thing.
And, I'm quite happy that my son's costume expense will be reasonably low.
Chloe even got in on the action. While Matt was in his class I let Chloe watch the older kids rehearse. She was dancing right along with them (and everyone said she was adorable)
But, as my brother in law pointed out - the end of season recital should be very interesting.
And seriously, I'm not sure how much Irish jig music I can really handle.
We'll see.
So, bye-bye karate. hello Irish dance.