Milestone

I remember, back in the day, waiting until the last minute to pick out my prom dress.  It was jet black with a hot pink bow, an apt combination that emitted my rather vile and bitter personality during that point in time.  I asked the guy to ask me, and he complied.  'Nough said about that very wrong chapter in my history.

Fast forward over twenty years.  My son can be a real gentleman, thanks to the fine example of his father, and tonight he displayed himself in fine form.  The Fates wove our lives very nicely, which helped.  We managed, after some calling around, to find a formal attire shop that would accept a last-minute order.  The boy, you see, thought that the junior prom was a week from now, rather than today, so ... yeah.  Luckily he'd saved some cash and bought tickets at school at the last possible moment, Thursday.  He got fitted for his tux last night and we picked it up this morning.  Normally they don't allow guys to try on the tuxes at the store but seeing as it would be an extra nasty drive for us and the fact that he'd need it the same day, they kindly made an exception.  Everything fit okay, so we went to the nearest florist and they, again very nicely (thank you Fates!) made a corsage for him on the spot.  We stopped by Costco on the way home for chocolates, dog food and some other stuff and then we went home to drop off the corsage in the fridge.  After a pause in action (sort of--the boy vacuumed and dusted the car and I washed the car and detailed it so that any accidental brushes against the vehicle wouldn't result in a dust smear on his or his date's clothes,) we went to downtown Camas for a haircut at Carla's, reputed to have the best men's haircuts in the area.  But Carla's was closed.  Denied!!   We thought all was lost and that we'd have to go to (chain stylist) where we've had some reasonable cuts but also some really ugly dos, but we happened to walk past a pretty fancy new place downtown that looked like it'd be mostly for women.  We decided to take a chance.  Turns out that the ladies there are normally booked several days in advance, but one, who was just leaving, was relatively new, had only a short list that day and she fabulously agreed to cut the boy's hair since it was a special occasion and all.  Bless her scissors.  I'll have more about her later in the week.  She gave the boy a haircut that she thought of as Clooney-esque and I thought made the boy look, well, more like a man than a shaggy animal.  It's sorta retro, yet classy and cute and boyish and well-groomed and ... well, the boy liked it, which was the important part.

We drove home, ate and the boy showered.  He got into his tux barely on time (aka late) and we dashed out the door to pick up his date.  But wait!  He forgot his tickets and his student ID.  We raced back to the house, he leapt out of the car, got the stuff, and we took off rolling.

We arrived safely in Camas.  His date looked like a million bucks, and the boy was all grins.  She was so pleased at the chocolates, and the corsage.  Yes, her hair is blue, a fabulous blue, I might add.  Her parents (and grandparents, who happened to be visiting this week) were justifiably proud.  I hadn't met her or them previously but they seemed like nice folks and I had no qualms as we loaded up and headed off to Pearson Air Museum for the big event.  Small talk was in short supply and all the radio stations had simultaneously programmed a sucky music hour, but we all survived the drive and I dropped them off with, at their request, no more pics.  I don't have very many, and a lot of them didn't turn out well due to low light conditions, but c'est la vie.  

Here's to dressing up and having fun, to living life to the fullest, and to the milestones.  Have a great prom, boy.