Just Say "No!" or "Maybe I can work it into my schedule if you really, really, need help, maybe."

It's such a small word, only two letters, yet I have the hardest time saying, "no". I guess I should make one distinction regarding that statement.  I have no problem telling my children "no", as my eldest has referred to my husband and me as the "no parents". But when other people want my help, or act like they need me, my black and white world of no becomes a very fuzzy gray.  When I instinctively want to say "no", but am struggling for a way to soften the rejection, I feel my face immediately catch on fire. Also, I look anywhere, but at the asker, and the last telltale sign that I really want to just say "no"...nervous giggling.  Anyone that knows me, KNOWS that I am NOT a giggler. Last night, was one of those moments.  In fact, the request was so outrageous, every fiber of my being screamed, "HELL NO!" My mouth, not so much.

Apparently, every year at my eldest's dance recital, there is a special number involving parents. I have seen these numbers.  None of the parents take themselves too seriously, but most of them show some sense of rhythm. To be clear, the extent of my dancing experience is restricted to car dancing and couch dancing.  No feet involved in either of those types of dancing.  And to be brutally honest, those types of dances are probably very much the same in either of those two locations, I can just list both types in order to broaden my dancing resume.  So, last night, I was cornered by several moms and dance teachers, "you will do the parent dance, won't you?" Giggling ensued.  It wasn't pretty.  Then the "we really need parents to participate, we are counting on you, yada, yada, yada...." I tried explaining that I don't dance. It was only met with "Sure you do.  And no one will really be watching you."  Then please explain to me the purpose of getting up in front of five hundred people and attempting to shake my groove thing?  Somehow, at this point, my kiddo got in on the conversation (bullying), "Please Mommy, everyone else's mom is doing it!" Insert pouty lip and clasped hands to signify begging.  Followed by all of her little friends begging me to dance as well. The peer pressure was coming at me from every angle. It didn't end well, and I don't think I was able to insert one FIRM "no" into the conversation. In an effort to take the attention off of me, I noticed another mom, stealthily making her way to the edge of the room.  If I was going down, I was taking her with me. "Have you asked her?" I pointed to the mom, who was now looking very interested in a picture on the wall. The predators had  found new prey, at least for a time. Desperate times call for desperate measures. In the meantime, I have approximately 24 hours to craft a well-worded refusal, or you might, just might, be able to see me "dancing" (I'm using that word loosely) to some 80's hit like Girls Just Wanna Have Fun with hair teased 8 inches high and something akin to spandex strangling my thighs. Perhaps they will bring a couch on stage just for me.