When Mom and Dad Went Dancing

When mom and dad went dancing I would watch with wide opened eyes. Dad was in the Coast Guard and put on his uniform which was sharp and brassy. Mom would open her closet door and ask me which dress should she wear. I always pointed to a beautiful black lace dress with a flesh colored taffeta beneath, and a scalloped neckline. Mom truly looked like a princess, with her reddish blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her perfect petite figure and narrow waist, and heels that made her look a good two inches taller. The room was awash in the fragrance of perfume and after shave lotion, tickling my nose and giving importance to the occasion. Dad would comb his jet black hair back in a Elvis fashion and was no less than dashing. The cut a enchanting vision to the eyes of a ten year old dreamer. 
I could only imagine them there, listening to a live band, drinking cocktails, dancing around the floor with full abandon. It always felt like it was a Cinderella tale and I dreamed of someday having my turn. 
As for me, I went back to the real world of babysitting. Seven siblings hungering for ghost stories, and games and giving excuses not to be put to bed. So I became the entertainment center of the night and wove my tales, and took flight with my imagination, until there were many sleepy heads and eye rubbing and finally they lay in peaceful slumber. 
I now could go into full mode of my own dreaming, dancing, twirling on an imaginary dance floor with a charming prince bowing to me, fully captivated by my charm and beauty. In the 50's we grew up on Cinderella stories, movies, books, and it was an expectation we carried into our adult life. Some of us were able to shake it off, others are still hoping.