Do you remember your high school’s homecoming week? To be honest, I really don’t. I remember girls would get giant mum corsages, complete with red and white ribbons and little plastic footballs and helmets hanging from them. There was a dance in our gym. I was on our high school’s drill team (in Houston, Texas, y’all), so we were always getting ready for the big half-time show. Every once in a while my parents would ask me how things were going. That’s about it.
To put it simply, my experiences pale in comparison to what’s been going on around here. My daughter’s a high school junior and preparations for Saturday’s dance have been 1) all-consuming, 2) expensive 3) full of drama and…(we really can’t stress this too much) 4) all-consuming. Every time my husband tries to get involved or offer an opinion, he messes things up, so I’ve had to pretty much ask him to be the Silent Participant. He’s allowed to smile, offer compliments, and pay for things.
The drama all started when she almost broke up with her boyfriend. Well, she did, for twenty-four hours. As soon as she did, she was asked to the dance by boyfriend’s best friend (!) with roses in the middle of Algebra. (no, that never, ever happened to me either…but wouldn’t it have been cool?) My daughter took the roses, said yes to the friend, and then dealt with the aftermath. Almost-Ex got jealous, begged her to take him back.
Now, she’s going to the dance with one boy, and leaving with boyfriend. Everyone seems just fine with this arrangement. Except, maybe, me…who’s going to the pre-homecoming dinner party to take pictures of my daughter with the boy who’s only Date Number 1.
After all this got figured out. (and boy, did y’all get the short version), the shopping began. New dress, new shoes. Search for the perfect purse. Yesterday was nail appointment day. Her hair appointment is this afternoon. Flowers have been ordered. I volunteered to make dessert for the 30 kids who are having dinner together at another’s house. She’ll do the dinner and the dance and the slumber party with all the girls.
And then, on Sunday, it will all be over. She works at an orchard, so she’ll go back to her regular job at the apple house selling Honey Crisp apples. My husband and I will look at each other and be so relieved...and then will most likely be sad.
Only one more homecoming after this…and then it will be all over. Done.
We know this because although these last two weeks have been crazy, another
homecoming has been on all our minds. Late Wednesday night, our son will come home for five days for his fall break. He’s been in Alabama and we’ve missed him terribly.
Our son’s homecoming will involve a big hug and lots of cooking, I imagine. His goals for the week include sleeping, seeing the weiner dog, and eating pot roast. Maybe a round of golf. As long as he's here, it sounds like heaven.
So here’s to high school traditions and college homecomings.
And to having friends to tell about it all…
I know I’m not the only one who’s gone through all this. Anyone have a good homecoming story to share? About a kid? About you? I’d love to commiserate.
Shelley
www.shelleygalloway.com