Zac, Jon and I were in the kitchen. Zac (age 13) was baking. Jon (age 11) was plugged into his iPhone listening to tunes while shuffling across the room; his hips thrusting back and forth while he grunted.
I said, "Jon! No."
"What, Dad? It's how I dance."
"That's not dancing. You're Air Fucking. Stop it."
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