My son is getting ready for his Freshman semi-formal right now.
I’ve been asking him for weeks if he needed anything for the dance; a new shirt, pants…a hair cut maybe? Nope. He was ‘all set’ – until this morning. Just 12 hours before the dance. “I need a shirt. Oh, and a tie.” That in and of itself would have been okay had he not specified the exact color of each that he wanted. But I’m the mom. I’m a magic maker. A miracle worker.
Oh and shoes…because you can’t wear sneakers you know. No, actually, I didn’t know. I guess I’ll run out and get shoes too. With a size 13 foot at 15 years old, that should be an absolute breeze.
Got home just before he got off the bus. Got everything he needed. I was so proud of myself. I felt a sense of accomplishment. Crisis averted.
Cinderella was ready for the ball.
He’s wearing a black shirt, black dress pants and navy/black tie. A little Johnny Cash, a little Green Day.
Now, with a little less than 20 minutes before he has to go, he can’t find his school i.d.
What the what?
God help me.