The Littlest Groover

Hello Ferg fans!

I shall be a mystery guest blogger today as Ferg has foolishly left his WordPress account open on his computer, and I have decided to write a little blog whilst he is peacefully snoring away.

He is feeling a little under the weather today.  Before you begin to feel too sorry for him I must impart to you, dear reader, that his current state of health is totally self-inflicted after a few too many 10 Saints last night.  I also am guilty of the same crime, but we did have a lot of fun with some friends, and met a rather special young man on the dance floor that I wanted to tell you all about.

When we arrived at the Dover beach party that was our destination of choice yesterday evening, the first person we saw up on the dance floor was rather smaller than we might have expected.  Dominic is an 8 year old boy with a talent for dancing, and after seeing him dancing on his own for a short while, Ferg could not help but have a little chat with him to make sure he was alright.  His parents weren’t obvious in the crowd, and his body language told us that he was not a stranger to holding his own on a dance floor as the only child.  For those of you that know Ferg, you will understand that seeing this child dancing at a party by himself at gone 11 o’clock at night upset him deeply.  So Ferg chatted to Dominic, and after a while the little child opened up and told him all about his love for dancing, and how he is very much looking forward to taking dance classes soon.  They were friends for life after Ferg asked Dominic about his favourite dance move; he took delight in showing off his special move and began to dance around with the free abandon that you would expect from an eight year old, losing the mask of the super cool dude that had previously adorned his little face.

We did discover that his mother was indeed around, as after Leecia had asked him if he would like a Coke, he replied “I’m going to ask my Mummy” and zoomed off in the direction of the bar.  She evidently didn’t mind him having a drink, but rather bizarrely did not deem it necessary to come and check out her son’s new friends.  That he met at a party.  On a beach.  At 11pm.  Now, this poses a bit of a conundrum for me, as I think it is fantastic that here in Barbados the atmosphere is such that kids can hang around at an adult party without great cause for concern regarding their safety.  I also think it is great that little Dominic can mingle with adults in the evenings in the same way that you see in family-oriented societies such as Spain.  However, in my opinion – and it is not, of course, the only opinion – I find it troubling that this little one didn’t have anyone to play with, that he was in an environment that is more suited to adults (dancing around with a bottle of beer in your hand in front of a lone child just seems wrong), and that his parent and/or guardian did not seem to think it was inappropriate for her to remain unseen whilst her child chatted to a bunch of strangers.  The most upsetting thing for Ferg was the fact that Dominic seemed completely used to this scenario, which of course conjures up the image of his mama taking him to bars and living it up whilst he entertains himself.  This assumption could be completely wrong of course…but it might not be.

At around 1am Dominic did head off with his mother, and Ferg did get to have a bit of a party and a boogie.

But this little one has stuck in his mind, and when he woke up this morning the first thing he said to me was “Poor Dominic”.  I absolutely love the fact that whilst everybody else danced round, drink in hand, singing along at the tops of their voices, Ferg was sitting on the floor talking to an eight year old boy about his favourite dance moves because he couldn’t bear to see him alone.  This is despite the fact that this particular dance night only happens once a month, and Ferg has been looking forward to it all week.  That is one of the qualities about Ferg that makes him so special, and one of the (many) reasons that I married him.

I hope my slightly hungover ramblings have kept you entertained, and given you a little to ponder over this evening.  I shall pass the pen back over to Ferg again for the next installment, until then keep smiling 🙂

Love Sian…oops, I mean the mystery writer! x

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