Ah, The Joys Of Being A Prom Mom

So, the tie should match the color of her dress, which is…? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Good one. He thinks blue, but it could also be white.

It’s prom time!

Which I only know because I am one of three high school parents (and guaranteed the only senior parent) who religiously scours the weekly Falcon Flash newsletter that clues me in to what’s happening at No 3’s educational institution. This is not only useful to me but extremely useful to him because he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“Oh hey, I just saw that only a certain number of tickets are going to be available for prom, so not everyone might be able to go. Seniors get first dibs. Did you know that?”

“What? No.”

“So, I should go online and buy you a ticket now, right?”

“Not yet.”

Not yet? NOT YET? It is only a few weeks away! Months before their respective proms, his two older sisters had tickets, dresses AND a game plan. We only just went for a suit fitting with T minus 10 days to prom. WTH. While we were at Men’s Wearhouse, we ran into two elementary school buddies — now at a different high school — and their prom? Saturday. SATURDAY. WE WERE ALL DEALING WITH SUITS ON TUESDAY. TUESDAY.

As someone who comes from a long line of careful planners, I nearly passed out. 


All of us moms were rolling our eyes. As we chatted and milled around the dressing rooms, one mother asked my kiddo if he was going with his girlfriend – now, I do know his “date” but the exact relationship status is murky, as is often the case any personal info relating to teenage boys – and I watched him intently.

“A friend.”

And then the next question: “Oh where’s your prom going to be at?”

Him: “Uuuuuuuhhhhhhh.”

Good grief. He didn’t even know. I fielded that one. Because I read the newsletter.

I tried not to hyperventilate as the salesman went to ask his manager if No. 3’s suit pants, which needed some tailoring, would be ready in time. They’re due to arrive no sooner than April 28. The prom is April 29.

It’s a good thing I learned a long time ago to always pack a brown paper bag for any activities relating to my youngest child. Don’t even get me started on the increasingly intense emails I receive as a CC courtesy from his chosen college. Dorm room? Hah. He may end up in a cardboard box in the Econ building. But that option is half the price of his top choice (a quad with a private bathroom) so I think I’m OK with that.    

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