Ori cocked an eyebrow back at Staas, in an expression reminiscent of her older brother. “Fuck yeah,” she mouthed silently but empathically at the other man with a grin, face hidden from the children. Which was totally cheating, thought Ira, but then the music started up and the kids immediately began to flail along.
The following half hour passed by with a lot of laughter, encouragement, teasing, and of course, dancing—which was not limited to the living room, oh no. Ori was treated to an impromptu tour of the Moorens’ apartment in the middle of the CD, through which all participants were required to continue dancing. It didn’t make for a particularly organized or comprehensive tour, but nobody cared.
There was somewhat of a pause from the adults as Staas’ song played, Staas offering forth a bit of explanation about it while Ori and Ira listened carefully. It wasn’t the first time Ira had heard recordings from his friend’s aborted musical career, but there was a kind of striking nostalgia to the old tunes that he always found too fascinating to multitask to. But then it was back to the madcap dancing, the five of them moving in and out of pairs and trios and one big knot and all across the room.
But it all slowed down as the songs wound on, and by the end of the CD everyone had collapsed onto the couch or on the floor (or both), giggling helplessly and poking at each other to get up off one body part or another.
Ori had snatched Ira’s hat and was fanning herself and Theo with it, snickering to herself at Ira’s half-assed attempts to grab it back from where he was lying in the thin strip of space between the couch and the coffee table. “No wonder you never go out anymore.,” she said breathlessly to her brother. “This is too much fun. Who needs clubbing when you’ve got little kids to dance with?”