Tuesday, October 22, 2013

What do you mean, I need to order flowers?

Ok, so I warned you I was an inconsistent blogger, and having challenged myself to make some sort of daily comment, I will own the fact that I can't do it, and I'm ok with that!  That being said there will always be blog fodder in my life and when the stars align I will have the opportunity to share.

It is hard to get across to 15 year old boys that when it comes to school dances, like homecoming, there are certain things that must be done.

It does not help when Dad is giving him the good old boy party line, - Don't worry about that stuff it's just a dance.

Now I'm not talking about asking her on the jumbo-tron at a Blazer's game, renting a limo, or a violin player to serenade you at dinner.  I'm talking about the BASICS.

- You don't want to totally clash, clothing-wise, so it might be helpful to ask her the color of the dress.  I know I'm asking a lot........

- It is on Saturday night, even when old people like my husband and I go out on a Saturday night we make a reservation.  It's busy!  So maybe finding out if you are going to dinner somewhere other than 5 Guys Burgers and Fries would be in order.  I know CRAZY!

- Flowers are required, period, end of discussion.  I'm playing the 'it's a girl thing' card on this one.

- No you may not wear your black Nikes with dress pants and a blazer.  Some form of dress shoe will be required.  Your only choice here is do you want to shop with me or your father.  He chose Dad.

With the minor details and requirements in order and met, I feel we are at least minimally ready for our first foray into the teenage dance world.

I know we're getting off easy with a jacket, tie, and a pair of dress shoes.  I was a girl once you know.  Hard to believe as that is.  I also know I'm about 2 years away from mani/pedi to match the dress, the dress itself, with the added bonus of the whole 'it's inappropriate' debate that is unavoidable when shopping with teen girls. Not to mention the 'you are going to break your ankle in those shoes' discussion, all topped off with my husband having to face the 'who is this boy' reality of his new phase of life.  Lord help us all!

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