Catherine sat in her kitchen, gently flipping the pancakes. She could hear Lindsay in the room above her moving about, she had a good 10 minutes before dinner/breakfast. She was still thinking about what Lindsay had said earlier.
"What age did you start dancing, mom?" "17, honey. Why?" "No reason."
Lindsay picked up a CD and put it on. Being 14, she put the speakers up loud, and I mean LOUD. Catherine could hear it from the kitchen. She was about to shout up for her to turn it down, when she heard…
#You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, digging the Dancing Queen
Friday night and the lights are low
Looking out for the place to go
Where they play the right music, getting in the swing
You come in to look for a king
Anybody could be that guy
Night is young and the music's high
With a bit of rock music, everything is fine
You're in the mood for a dance
And when you get the chance...
You are the Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen(Lindsay turned it up.)
Dancing Queen, feel the beat from the tambourine
You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, digging the Dancing Queen
You're a teaser, you turn 'em on
Leave them burning and then you're gone
Looking out for another, anyone will do
You're in the mood for a dance
And when you get the chance...
You are the Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen
Dancing Queen, feel the beat from the tambourine
You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, digging the Dancing Queen#
Catherine just stared in disbelief, was that song written for her? BEEP BEEP BEEP! "Crap!" the pancakes had burnt, and the fire alarm had gone off. Lindsay ran down the stairs. "Hey mom, guessing you burnt the pancakes." "What? How often do you hang round with Sara?" "About twice a month, why?" "You sounded a bit like her." "Sarcastic?" "Yea."