Her First Semi-Formal

OK, so it's all about the girl-child.

Heaven help me, I love her, but some days I wish I'd had 2 boys.

Yesterday, I get a phone call at work around 3 PM as usual. I am informed that the Valentine's semi-formal is on Friday. There's just a hint of something in her voice, and I KNOW she wants to go…sort of.

Me: Do you want to go to the semi-formal?
Her: Not really. Sorta. Well, yeah. Can I?
Me: Sure, why not? It's Friday from 7-9, right?
Her: Yeah, but Mom?
Me (dreading the next line, KNOWING what she's going to say): Yes?
Her: I don't have anything to wear.

Shoot me now. Or as I'm more famous for saying, stab me in the eye with a pen, because it's surely less painful than what's going to follow.

*sigh*

I ask about the lovely dress that's hanging on the back of my bedroom door, purchased for Confirmation, never worn because it made her feel "exposed." It has spaghetti straps and is square cut across the top of her bust, and it's adorable and she swore when we bought it that she loved it and I was the best mom ever and she couldn't wait to wear it. Til she tried it on at home the day before Confirmation. Another story for another time. That and the 2 pair of shoes she'll never wear.

"Mom, you KNOW I can't wear that – it's too big in the chest and it makes me feel exposed."OK, so I suggest dress shopping that very night. Would that work? Yes, it will, so we agree to go to the mall (how I HATE the mall!) and check out the young girls' dress shops. I shudder at the thought. I text my boy-child, her soon to be 18 year old brother, and tell him we're going, what we're going for, ask if he wants to come, but tell him to PLEASE say no. Contrary bastard that he can be, he says he'd LOVE to come. I can see it now. "You have too much booby hanging out, you can't wear that." "That's too short, boys will see your panties when you dance."

*sigh*

Actually, my daughter would never choose anything about which those comments could be made, so it shouldn't be as bad as I expect. So we all go, against my better judgment.

Deb Shoppe, here we come. 1 dress to the fitting room. Out she comes, looking very Teen Vogue. Discussion includes how she'll have to wear a tank or cami underneath so her boobs really don't show, considering how far down the slit goes. Like, almost to her waist. Her brother is right outside the fitting room and she won't let him see the dress. She kinda likes it, but she's not 100% sure. It has cap sleeves and a pleated skirt. It's cute, but I've found one I think she'll like better (and it's on sale to boot!). It's black with blue and white polka dots and a blue satin bow at the waist and a wide blue trim in the same fabric at the hem. She puts it on, and she loves it! I hold my breath…it's cut exactly like the one that she hates at home.

Her brother asks why must we be here if she's only going to buy something she already has, BUT - he (with surprise) tells her she looks "really good". I walk away and come back with a lace-edged shrug. She puts it on, talks about how she really likes it, look, with her hair flat-ironed and her key necklace, it's perfect! Son walks away - "call me when you're done here".

She's thrilled…and we walk out with our purchases. A total of less than $40...YAY ME!

Next, it's shoe shopping. You haven't seen anything until you've seen a tomboy in her first pair of heels. Actually, I lied...you haven't seen anything until you've seen an 18 year old boy showing his 13 year old sister how to walk in her first pair of heels! She can't walk with them on…and they're only about 1" high…a kitten pump that's absolutely adorable. She's putting the balls of her feet down first and looks like a newborn ostrich walking across the floor. Her brother tells her that she needs to walk heels first and keep her feet in line – think America's Next Top Model. She rolls her eyes and starts the model strut that makes her look like a teenage ho, placing one foot directly in front of the other. He looks at her and shakes his head. HELL NO. He proceeds to demonstrate - in hiking boots and cargo pants. She's laughing and tells him he should try it in heels...and heaven help me, I'm sure he would have if I hadn't stepped in. I am about to die of embarrassment. I'm laughing so hard, it's almost a Depends moment. My 2 are comparing struts in the center of Payless Shoe Store.

"Walk NORMALLY!"

She looks at me, blinks and begins her normal walk across the aisle. NOW she's got it!

Me: That's it, sweetie! You've got it. Do they feel ok?
Her: Yeah, but my toes are being squished.
Me: Try a bigger size.Her: I can't – my foot'll come out of the back of them.
Me (and the sales lady): Welcome to high heels…that's just how it is!
Her: It's OK – I LIKE them! I WANT them. And these clogs...Can I?

Chalk another one up for the mother/brother team…we now have the dress AND the shoes.

The last place we had to go was American Eagle Outfitters, and while she shopped, her brother and I sat on the couches in the back and ripped apart music videos. Do people really dance like that? Is this what today's youth is listening to? Oy...as my son confirms it all with disdain.

It takes my daughter 15 minutes to spend a little less than $80 worth of gift cards, and with that, we're off home…but not before seeing the waffle maker I'm going to try to convince Bill to buy me for Valentine's Day. It's half price…