We did quite a bit of hovering the other night, not very well, but we’ve only just begun learning how to. It takes a little practice, but with persistence you, too, can hover.

Besides floating above the ground with no visible means of support, hovering is also what our dance instructor calls a step in the wrong direction, so to speak. I have no idea if that’s the technical dancing term for it. Sometimes I think he makes up names. “Some people call it a hover, some people call it a twinkle,” he told us once, many moons ago. Either different dance studios have their own dialects, or he’s having fun with us.

A hover, to get back to the subject, looks like we’re stepping off to go one way, then we turn and go in an entirely different direction. Aside from allowing you to get out of a corner should you get backed into one, a hover is also a shortcut to a promenade, or a hesitation, or any one of a dozen other steps – or would be, if my brain cell could think that fast. Mostly we promenade, because that’s the first thing that comes to me. If I didn’t have to drive all the time we’d probably do something else.

After hovering the night away, we went home and ate some tasty, fattening snacks. Hovering takes a lot out of us.