Something that I strongly object to is the term “baby dance” when used in the context of having sex with the aim of getting a bun in the oven.
The only bone fide “baby dance” worth a dime is the infamous Oogachaka Baby which was one of the first online videos to go viral in the late 90s (remember it?!). It was everywhere for a while, in TV Shows and music videos at the time but most memorably of all for most of us was when it appeared in numerous episodes of Ally McBeal as the internal visualoge of Ally’s neurotic mind, her inner dancing baby symbolizing her ever-ticking body clock.
If you have ever googled anything to do with trying to get pregnant and found yourself on a confusing acronym strewn forum or fertility website full of people talking about the likes of HPKs, DPO, BFP, DH, BFN, AF, HPT, DTD (WTF… anyone???) then you may too have come across “Baby dance” in this context. So many postings on forums or websites refer to doing the “baby dance” and (get ready to vomit) the women posting on these forums (it’s never men, they’re too busy spanking one out to Hollyoaks to make up for all this über un-erotic “baby dancing”) encourage each other with hugs & kisses and sprinklings of “baby dust”. Pinkifi-fucking-cation starts here ladies. Grown women behaving like silly little girls dressed in pink in the playground with pigtails throwing one big pukesome glittering pink slumber party. What hope have future generations of womankind got if this is how their mothers-in-waiting converse, albeit online to random strangers on the forums of the obsessed? Don’t even get me started on how all the apps to chart your periods are pink and/ or mauve. GRRRRR!
“Baby dust” is the Axis of Evil Vomiticious Grossness. But I digress. Let’s stick to slamming the “Baby dance”. It all at once conjures some kind of hippie patchouli scented chant in a sweat lodge with an old stoner playing a didgeridoo, everyone’s favorite Agony Aunt Claire Rayner straight from the 70s lecturing you smugly about the birds & the bees in your GCSE Biology class, most probably all sprinkled with some of that fluffy baby dust. One thing’s for sure, it’s not gonna get you in the mood, it could make you puke, or if you’re of a milder disposition than me then it might just make you grimace with disgust at being so fucking patronized.
So let’s cut to the chase. Let’s examine some more appropriate terms and their potential drawbacks, with which to replace “baby dance”:
- Have a shag – could be confused with a type of pile on a carpet, a hairstyle or Scooby Doo’s accomplice
- Make out – quite 1950s Rydell High, one might forget to go beyond second base at the drive in
- Get jiggy with it – could make you involuntarily start shouting NA-NA NA-NA NA-NA NAAAH, NA-NA NA-NA NA NAH!
- Hide the sausage – might make you want to waste an afternoon googling the Viz Profanisaurus
- Make love – make love not war kids, get out the Barry White album and put that baby dust away!
- Have sex – simple, to the point. It it what is is, let’s not beat around the bush… No let’s do exactly that!
- Bush whacking twerk jive – it’s always worth having new tricks up your sleeve and this one sounds fun
The web is so full of people pouring out every graphic detail of their baby making endeavors, why gloss over the actual sex bit with the pukesome term “baby dance”. So there we have it. Stop all this “baby dance” nonsense, call it what it is or at least something funny and get practicing your twerk jive in the bush whack, YO.