h a l f b a k e r y
Romantic, but doomed to fail.
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Coming back from the garden, I noticed that I didnt have just carrots and beans with me - my shoes had picked up their share of soil - but I stepped onto the Willkommen of my new Dance Meister doormat with eager feet and a smile. I grasped the chrome handles on each side of the door and my left thumb
hovered over buttons marked Waltz, Polka and Tango before pressing Modern.
As an electric accordion, contemporary art tune issued from the handles stereo speakers, the doormats hundreds of bristled brushes the size of toothbrushes started moving. Wiping, whiping and whirling to the beat, some rotated, some moved laterally and some temporarily stood still, supporting parts of my shoes.
I hung on and looked down with satisfaction as my toes touched, my heels clicked and then my feet seem to do a moon walking tap dance.
After 30 seconds I clicked the off button and walked inside with raised spirits and clean soles. I determined that next time Id sing along, neighbors or no neighbors and didnt notice until later that the mats text had become Weklimnoml.
||This could be easily baked using a big doormat and a PS2 with any of the "Extreme Dance" type games with the sensor mat thing. That's why I'm giving it a croissant.
||I think you need to add a link to a video of you doing this so we can get the gist of it, [FJ]. ***still nursing the scrape I got on my elbow from when I fell off my chair from laughing so hard.***