fire dancing

Sometimes, you’re just hanging out at a luau, trying to get your toddler to eat some pineapple, when all of a sudden some man in a loincloth grabs you by the arm and throws a lei around your neck and pulls you up onto a stage where a lady in a coconut bra wraps a sarong around your waist and says to you, now, you will hula.

And so you hula. And it is awesome, and not as embarrassing as you might expect — that is, until the man in the loincloth comes back and thrusts his hips at you – on stage! in front of everybody! and also the Internet! – and you think, oh god, are my children watching? and you blush, hard.

But it’s still pretty great, because you get to cross one more thing off your life list, and, also, you get to keep the sarong. Sarongs are awesome.

Many, many thanks to Loews Hotels, for arranging for the surprise hula lesson (and for reading my life list and spotting item #17 in the first place) and to Universal Orlando Resort, for bringing us to Orlando so that I could learn to hula and also drink Butterbeer and stuff. Have I said? SO AWESOME.

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