it's every 4 years. promise.

Monday night, I was minding my own business, waiting for my Zumba class to start. "My" spot happens to be near this paper towel dispenser that has the Group Class schedule/calendar taped to it. People tend to congregate around the schedule, because it FREAKING CHANGES EVERY MONTH, which is not annoying at all. So I thought nothing of it as a few of my fellow Zumba regulars were hanging out at the schedule, easily within earshot of me, and chatting while waiting for class to start.

I was keeping myself busy on the phone and by physically occupying my spot-- otherwise people start creeping in on your zone. Which is not cool with me. So I have to be vigilant while waiting for class to start. I wasn't paying much attention to the girls (women-- all at least 30 years old) at the paper towel machine. I did see (in the mirror) that they were gesturing to the calendar, towards the bottom-- where this week would be.

Yeah...sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn't, I heard one of them comment. I figured they were talking about one of the classes or something. I go on playing my Words game.

And when it doesn't happen...it just...goes on to the next month!

OK, I obviously missed something in my eavesdropping, but no matter. Talking about the gym schedule is boring. Back to my game.

...yeah...every other year. It's every other year. The other years, there's only 28 days.

Umm...ok, I'm starting to feel slightly concerned that they are no longer talking about Boot Camp or Butts & Guts classes here and might be talking about something...else. Something that should not be being debated or pondered about by grown women. I really start trying to focus on my phone, because I don't want or need to know what they're discussing at this point.

Yep. Every other year. So this year there's 29, isn't that cool?! The woman who was saying this was being rewarded with nods and smiles from her companions, as "oh, NOW I get it!" looks came over their faces. This girl, whom I regularly speak to and consider to be a nice, friendly, normal person, was evidently the 'teacher,' enlightening her friends about something critical on the calendar.

Our instructor walks in and we all quickly assume our spots. The crew at the schedule breaks up. But in the mirror, I see another girl-- not a part of the original Schedule Club-- walk over to the ringleader/teacher of the Schedule girls.

It's every four years, actually.

We start warming up. Shoulders are getting loose. But it's never too late to learn something new!

What? the ringleader/teacher says.

Yall are talking about Leap Year, right? my new BFF says. It's every four years. I just...couldn't NOT tell you. I'm sorry. It's every four years.

Surprisingly, the ringleader takes this news with grace. "Oh! Thanks! I knew it was something weird like that," and goes on with her warmup.

But me?? I couldn't concentrate the rest of the night. Are you SERIOUS??! If you had asked me how many adults in the COUNTRY were unaware about Leap Year, I wouldn't have guessed more than a handful. And yet there were AT LEAST THREE in my one little Zumba class one night?

Ay yi yi. God Bless America.      

And Happy Leap Day!