Twinkle Dance

Tiller: What are you doing, mama?

Me: Listening to music. What are you doing, dancing?

Tiller: No, I'm doing my own dance.

Me: What kind of dance?

Tiller: The twinkle dance. You pretend you are the rock and I will be the twinkle.

Me: Okay.

We dance.

Tiller: I'm the star. Between the moon. We are all there. Except Lisa. She can be on the moon.

Um, okay.