It's Prom Time. Everything Will Be Just Fine Anyway!

            Ah…the first prom.  I remember it clearly.  We began in March searching for the perfect dress, the perfect shoes and the perfect clutch.  Along with hair, makeup, nails and pedicure, I knew the dress was only the beginning.  That was the first time I shopped for a prom, and it wasn’t even my own. 

            Five years ago as I stood in line with daughter number one and her sisters a half hour before the boutique opened, I could feel the excitement trickle through the voices of all the girls in line.  The wind was chilly, but there we stood, shivering in our lightweight jackets, thinking our clothing would bring the warm weather.  Then the announcement came.

            “Listen, everybody!” A female’s voice boomed.  We couldn’t see, so we craned our necks over the heads of the other girls in the line. 

            “When you get into the store, please stay inside the front area for important instructions.”  What? Instructions? To buy a dress?  What was she talking about? That just added to the nervous excitement everyone was already feeling.  Then the doors opened.

            Huddled in the front of the store, we heard another voice that sounded more like a drill sergeant.

            “Okay, ladies.  You are to start with three dresses.  Once you find your three dresses, you are to let one of our associates know and they will escort you to a fitting room.  If you do not see the dress in your size or color, don’t worry.  We have plenty of dresses in the back, so I’m sure we can find it or a similar dress you’re going to love.”  And then, almost like the shot of a gun at the races, the girls were off.  But my little group didn’t get far.

            A dress called to my daughter and me at the same time.  It was nothing short of perfect.  It had a fitted bustier at the top and was all flowy and cinderella-ish at the bottom.  She was truly a princess.  Fast-forward to present day.

            I found myself yet again in the line to hear the same words.  Only this time it’s for daughter number two.  There will be no princess look for her.  For my daughters are like morning, noon and night.  So she picked three dresses.  Then another three dresses.  Then they brought some dresses from the back.  Then they brought some dresses from even farther in the back.  Then I think they shipped some dresses from another country.  No luck.  We left.

            We went to two more boutiques several miles away.  Then my daughter began to get frustrated.  I could tell because her eyes got misty, and she was on the verge of getting angry.  I regrouped us by taking the girls to get something to eat. 

            “Hey,” I said, "Let’s go back and try once more.  After all, they did say we could always come again.”

            I saw a glimmer of hope in my daughter’s eyes.  So we went back.  And she picked a dress she tried on in the first group of three dresses.  Now as she stands in her room wearing the perfect shoes with her glamorous, fitted, halter-style dress, all I can think is beautiful.  All I can think is red carpet.  In three more years, we’ll be standing in that line yet again looking for the perfect dress for daughter number three.  I hope a dress calls.  But if not, I’m sure we will pick the right one.  The only question is which dress will be lucky enough to win?