Losing the Walrus

As a girl who drug her feet, I remember hearing how my father had a bounce in his step when he was feeling the best, like when he was hunting for fresh mint out in the pasture, checking the fence line for weak points, or packing to go away on another job. I was jealous.  

Walrus rear your awful head, well now I dance in my kitchen instead.  I know I look silly and really can’t dance.  But let me tell you, my friend, my heart is set free.  Stone sober, I soar like a drunken eagle and stomp on the head of the snake, I lose inhibition and anxiety I shake.   

So when was I the most silly? 

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