Ah, the robot. It is Noah's favorite dance move. At ten years old, it is one of the few he has mastered. I try and teach him much cooler moves like the funky chicken, but he seems to always fall back on his good 'ol faithful.
I stand in the middle of the living room floor and say, "Watch this, Noah," as I proceed to bounce and jirate backwards, attempting the "roger rabbit" from my childhood.
"Mom, that is so bad," he says. He rolls his eyes at me and makes his way to my side. He shifts my arms and legs around and instructs me to "pop and lock". I watch him show me how it is done and I try my best to imitate, but it is no use; momma can't pop and lock.
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