D is for Dancing.

And B freaking loves to dance. We're not quite sure where she got it.

Don't get me wrong, we like dancing as much as the next guy. As long as the next guy only dances at weddings after all the toasting is done.

Not B.

We dance in the morning. In the car. In our highchair. Or stroller. Orbasicallyanywhere. There doesn't even need to be music.

She has approximately two moves, and a dance face. It's seriously adorable.

So please, for sake of all that is good, put on your dancing shoes, and your favorite Usher song, and dance. B is. And if you have half the fun that she's having it's bound to be a good night.