My dad, his new wife, my boy and I went out to dinner Sunday night after they drove up to my little town from her horse show. The following conversation ensued.

ME: “The dancers at the parade today were awesome! I wish I could dance like that. Or maybe just dance half as well as them. Or at all.”

MY BOY: “You were dancing earlier in the apartment.”

ME: “Yeah, but that was a special, private dance.”

DAD’S WIFE: “As long as it didn’t involve a pole!”

ME: Turning red and realizing what my dad and his wife think. “No, no! It was a special dance that one who cannot dance does in her apartment. My boy just happened to be the witness.”

And then we plowed through the awkward conversation and changed the topic. Wow.