The things we do for our kids.
I have always enjoyed helping my daughter get ready for the prom or homecoming or cotillion or the annual pig festival dance or whatever formal occasion we had on next on the calendar. There’s a lot that goes in to preparing for these events… that is if you have a girl. Boys take about 27 minutes. Girls? 27 hours. But I love it. I love it until I find myself in hooker heels in a Hess station.
It was prom night. Her hair was done in a beautiful up-do. She had a french manicure and pedicure. Her makeup was just right. She had the perfect yellow dress acquired after days of shopping. Subsequent to the selection of that dress, I had purchased a 100 ft roll of “flash tape” to ensure the dress stayed in all the right places. She had 4 inch high silver heels that accented the dress perfectly. Once the earrings and bracelet were added, she was ready to head to the marathon photo session at a downtown park.
Of course I took all the photos she wanted. Standing. Sitting. On the stairs. Near the water. With the boy. With the group. With the boy and the group.
Hundreds of photos later, the happy couple got in the back of my limo and I chauffeured them to the glitzy and glamorous hotel in Orlando. Yes, I know. How painful that mom had to drive them. But their real limo plans fell through and neither was allowed to drive that far just yet so here is mom to save the day. They actually didn’t mind since I let them play the music as loud as they wanted. And told them jokes. Ok maybe I went overboard with that, but I laugh at myself so I was entertained. Heck, I’m driving. And I had worked hard to get to this point. There was a lot invested in this evening. She was gorgeous. I was proud.
I dropped them off at the door. As they strolled in to Prom Night 2014, I zoomed off to kill time for two hours until my next assignment – get them to the afterparty. I proceed to review the 500 photos we just took.
When I arrived to retrieve the happy couple, half of the happy couple did not look so happy. My daughter proclaimed her shoes to be the absolute spawns of satan, adding that she could no longer wear them or it would make the evening unbearable. “OK just change into your flats you brought.” What flats? You mean you forgot your flats? I saw my evening going a lot differently as I slipped off my flat sandals and handed them over.
But what was I to do. I’m a mom. I wanted her to have a fun time. As she goes on to the post Prom celebration now able to walk again, I knew this was going to be a late night. I settled into the car with my computer, a book, snacks, drink and my heated seats. Party time for mom. Continue reading