Genius is off to the prom tonight, resplendent in his cream-colored tux with the cornflower blue tie. And black shoes.
It seems that SOMEBODY around here neglected to procure white shoes. Not the SOMEBODY who really needs to wash the dishes, make a sandwich, do the laundry, hand out money, buy some deodorant, straighten the house for a girlfriend's visit, give permission to leave school for two hours to have lunch at a Mexican restaurant, and stop turning on the light at 6:45 every morning. No. The SOMEBODY responsible for complementary footwear is the one who should have thought about renting them with the tux, and ordering his date a corsage.
Seriously. Genius told me on Thursday that he needed white shoes. Like I was Geppetto, and could whittle him a pair overnight. How am I supposed to find white shoes in two days? I suggested that he call the tux rental shops and see if they had any. Huh. That was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. "Mom. They don't just have shoes sitting around. You have to order them when you rent your tux." Nor did he cotton to the idea of checking out various shoe and department stores. But of course, telling your mom Geppetto is reasonable, because she can simply carve a pair in between appendages for her wooden son, who may lie like the dickens, but will find a way to get his own white shoes by hook or by crook, without burdening his mother.
His date had the idea of both of them ordering cornflower blue Converse, but changed her mind upon checking prices. At least she had the foresight to think of her tootsie-covers. She probably should have thought about picking somebody's Easter lilies for a corsage while she was at it. Genius assured me that she would not miss a corsage. He also neglected to get her one last year. I don't suppose she'll lapse into a coma from the shock. Even though she's not his girlfriend, he DID spring for her ticket, and will be footing (in his black shoes) the dinner bill. Though he might have an ulterior motive in urging her to fill up at the prom's chocolate fountain AND cheese fountain.
I hope they have a wonderful, memorable time.
A CHEESE fountain? So does that mean that melted Velveeta is spouting up into an artistic arc of cheeselike gooeyness?
ReplyDeleteSounds yummy.
Cheese fountain, oh heart be still! Hope he had a marvelous time in his black kicks.
ReplyDeleteThis brings back memories from when our 32 year old was a boy. He'd do the same thing and make his poor mother scramble. I'd just laugh at him when he came to me with last minute requests so he seldom did. Kids!
ReplyDeleteNo cheese fountain at the only prom I went to! No eats at all. They had big bottles of Coke and small cups (think Dixie cups that hold 2 ounces) with a lone ice cube per cup. And I had shoes that matched my dress!
ReplyDeleteSioux,
ReplyDeleteI don't know the nature of the cheese, but that cheese fountain is what drew the oohs and aahs from the freshmen when they asked, "What's there to do at the prom, anyway?"
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Linda,
I don't mean to initiate cardiac arrest, but along with the cheese fountain, there was a CHOCOLATE fountain! I'm sure his black kicks were the last thing on his mind once he got there. He returned home at 2:00 a.m. without a black eye, so it seems his date forgave him for the corsage faux pas.
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Stephen,
NOW you tell me how to avoid being the go-to gal!
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Kathy,
I suppose that put a crimp in spiking the drinks. Our school had no prom. Not my junior OR senior year. It was a different kind of crowd. You might find a class picture of us in the dictionary next to APATHY. Perhaps that's why my route to valedictorianship was relatively road-hazard free.