If you've got high school upperclassmen in your house, you've no doubt either just had or are preparing for that annual rite of passage that is prom. It's the subject of a variety of Web sites and a constant topic in the news this time of year.
I've gotten some photos recently from a few friends whose young'uns are startlingly all grown up in their prom attire. In fact, the photo here was shared by my most excellent friend Chele. Her stepson's prom was over the weekend. (Prom. Wasn't he just 9 or 10 like five minutes ago? Sheesh!)
I had to laugh because this column really took me back. I remember my prom (I only went senior year). It was sooooo long ago we didn't even live in This D*mn House! My first high school friend, now my dear lifelong friend CP, (she of the appliance-shopping misadventures at Lowe's) and I both worked at a downtown department store. We used our discount to pick out tuxes for "our boys," both of whom were good sports about it, considering they were past high school. My date was more than reluctant, initially refusing to go. My argument: Someone will be taking me to prom. Somebody will be kissing me goodnight. If it's not you, well … I won.
It was a great night. All of my friends were there. The chicken was rubbery. The music was blah. (It was the '80s and I was riding the alternative wave. I don't think I've ever gotten off of it.) But it didn't matter. We all went to a friend's house for an impromptu after-prom party. Her parents were out of town and might not otherwise have known we were ever there but pictures materialized during a bridal or baby shower some years later. My friend's mom, seeing the décor in the background of these photos queried, "Isn't that our house?"
It was the first time in my life that I had permission to stay out all night. (Seems appropriate that CP was there. She and I would be together on many more future all-nighters. Many times, she got me to work at a grocery store by my house within minutes of my start time -- 6 a.m. on Saturday, 8 a.m. on Sunday.) I made the most of that first night. After the party, we watched the sun come up on the riverfront before heading home. Late spring nights can get cold and at some point, he had given me his leather jacket and a black dress scarf.
I slept with that scarf tucked under my pillow. Ahhhh … young love.
1 comment:
Ah, the joys of prom memories...After a frenzied photo session at Grandma's house, my SK8R boy escaped the paparazzi and headed off for round 3. Grandma walked up behind me and asked "Are you going to lay out his tux, the flowers and the crown in the morning for pictures?" For the uninitiated, I was the most unlikely Prom Queen and that rought back a flood of memories on what happened on MY prom night. I had to resist the impulse to run down the street, like a crazy lady, yelling "Don't you even think about doing anything like I did on Prom night!" It is funny what happens to your thinking when you get part ownership in a teenager!
Post a Comment