Prom. People seem to have a love/hate relationship with this high school past-time. I just liked having an excuse to dress up.
Yesterday was my little sister’s prom. She’s the last girl. That means that until a wedding or something, this is the last time my services as sister-of-the-senior-at-prom will be needed.
It’s always the same and it starts months before. Once you have the dress, then you have the fittings. Do her make-up, keep her sane, make her lunch, help her get into her dress, put on her shoes (yeah…I put her shoes on for her), put a cute little note in her clutch to add a touch of corny sisterly love to the night. This year I had to sew her dress while it was on her because our seamstress didn’t do the best job.
As I handed her the little silver clutch I brought to my prom, all I could think was, if I ever have kids, they’re going to have to be girls. My talents would be wasted on boys.
She looked like Malibu Barbie.