In Emma’s classroom at the JCC, there’s an animatronic cow that sits up on a shelf above a big picture window, next to an accordion, a tambourine and a CD player.
If you squeeze the cow’s lower left udder, the Chicken Dance song blares out. When the cow first made her appearance, the kids in the class fell in love. They’d nod their heads along with the music and demand more when the cow’s routine ended.
It wasn’t long before the children in Emma’s class learned put their hands up near their underarms and flap their elbows like wings. They clap when you’re supposed to clap, and some even shake their butts back and forth when the song calls for it.
Emma hasn’t gotten to the fanny-wagging portion of the dance yet, but she flaps her wings with the best of them. Ashley tells a funny story about seeing Emma do the dance for the first time. That afternoon on the drive home, Ashley had to sing the song to Emma over and over. Each time Ashley would finish, Emma would put her two pointer fingers together (baby sign-language for “more, please!”) and say, “Mah! Mah!” (Translation: MORE! MORE!)
So Ashley would sing it again and Emma would flap her arms along with the song.
Now, if you ask Emma, “How does the cow go?” she flaps her arms up and down.
Having seen that, and having heard Ashley’s description of Emma doing the Chicken Dance, I decided that we just must have video of it for the blog. So last week, I packed up the camcorder and we went to school.
I set Emma down near the cow and went to put her bags away when two of her classmates came over to greet her. The first, who says “Emma!” every morning when we walk in, gingerly gave Emma a hug and then a kiss.
The second — who is the oldest, largest and the student with by far the most dexterity — came over and followed suit. She gave Emma a hug (not so gingerly) and then a kiss. But as if not merely to mimic the classmate before, the second followed up with an aggressive push that sent Emma to the floor.
It was not good. Emma screamed and cried and I felt terrible that I’d just seen her get bullied and could do nothing about it. I picked her up and consoled her. She calmed down.
So I put her back on the mat under the cow. Let’s Chicken Dance, I thought — partially because I thought it might make Emma feel better, and partially because I really wanted to get video of her doing the Chicken Dance at 14 months old.
She stood there as I squeezed the udder and the song came on. Kids came running over like cats drawn to a freshly opened can of tuna. They flapped their arms, clapped and shook their “tushes.” Emma just stood there, glaring at that cow as if to say, “I wish your batteries would just die.”
