Prom

Here are the belles of the ball. This is my daughter's posse at the "parent photo session." This was followed by the Grand March which is an experiment conducted to see just how much heat a thousand parents can generate in an enclosed space in the dark as their offspring queue up and walk from one spotlit platform to the next, stopping to do some photo-worthy routine at each spot. Apparently critical mass was reached and the mass altered the space-time ratio because it took about a year to finish. Last year I was inside, close to one of the spotlit platforms and was treated to an unending tableau of dresses stepped upon and snatched upon desperately before we all witnessed a wardrobe malfunction. This year I got there late and couldn't even get into the Grand March and was relegated to standing in the hall outside the exit doors where it was all high-fives amongst those wearing dresses and not experiencing the aforementioned malfunction.

Today, of course, it is all over. There was the "dinner," and the "limo" (which my daughter declined to participate in because it was "excessive," and a good thing too. I saw them wedged into that limo like sardines in a can. Although, from a boy's perspective, maybe that was the perfect thing). There was the "dance" of course, but who knows if there was any real dancing going on. I have it on good authority that Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire would have been scandalized had they shown up.

Then there was the whole co-ed sleepover at an old friend's house. Good thing it was somewhere else. I feel too old fashioned to have done it here. Sometimes, ignorance is, if not bliss, then at least allowing for fatherly sleeping. So, now I have a girl back home with the attitude that comes from too little sleep and post-event let down. I think she had a good time, but I am not sure if this kind of thing is really her bag.

More later.