I remember a few years in Jackson Hole, I convinced my dad to let me buy a cowgirl hat, claiming I would wear it all the time. Now, years later, I have dusted it off and worn it to my first ever line dancing country/fourth of July party. Whatever you want to call it. Tommy's family put it all together, and he invited me for some friendly distractions from them or something. And it was awesome. Complete with flag ceremony, volleyball, homemade donuts, watching his grandpa revv that beautiful Mustang of his, awkward magic tricks (an attempt of his cousin to pick up some of the visiting girls) and of course: dancing. It was a hoot to click my heels and yell "Yee-haw!" on occasion, while throwing my hat in the air. I just wish I woulda had a pair of boots with spurs to complete the outfit.
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