Both of the twins seem to have decided not to go off to a nightclub and dance the night away until after exams. Heaven knows, having a good ole bop would be brilliant if it didn’t all kick off so very late at night, making the clubbers into grim and grumpy zombies the next day.
But even so, there is the sound of uncouth music coming from Carenza’s room, together with thumpy dancy noises and a certain amount of giggling.
As I open the door, they freeze, I would like to say “like rabbits in the headlights” but rabbits are a bit more innocent than that.
Apparently they have been practising twerking.
“No – there’s no way we’re showing you.”
“Nope - if you want to know what it is you’ll have to look it up on YouTube.”
If those dance moves are so bad they can’t show me, do I really want to look them up on YouTube? Or will I end up having to drag my hard disk into the woods to destroy it, Broadchurch-style?
If anybody feels they can succinctly describe twerking in standard English without recourse to teen slang, this particular confused mother would find it most informative if you could do it in the comments section below.