Sunday, March 27, 2011

The Last Dance

Saturday EN and Sugar attended the annual Father Daughter Dance together. This event is held at Sugar’s school. In September she will be heading off to middle school so this was their last event. Neither one said much about being sad that it was their last dance, but it was bittersweet for me. It means my girl is growing up.

Preparations began several weeks ago when we bought the dress. It was a pale pink strappy number that Sugar loved. In years past, we’ve had much drama during this process as well so I was relieved that we found something we liked our first time out. We looked for shoes in quite a few stores but didn’t find the right pair until Friday night. I think the pressure was on!

EN had his suit cleaned and ordered the corsage. I picked everything up Saturday morning while they were at skating lessons. Saturday afternoon was dedicated to getting ready for the big event. I curled Sugar’s hair and painted her nails.

Of course preparations are not without drama. The back of her hair wasn’t curly enough and her bangs weren’t doing the “side-swept straight” thing quite right. Her (non) boobs were hanging out of the dress that she swore fit properly in the store. And the mama is left feeling that nothing she does is good enough. Spice added to the drama by putting Lola in her doll crib and running back and forth through the upstairs hallway with it. While I stood there, armed with hot curlers, a curling iron and a straightening iron, all I could picture was a two-pound puppy tumbling down the stairs.

After a few tense moments (which felt like hours), Sugar found a little pink jacket that she had worn the year before and put it on. It matched the new dress perfectly yet hid the boob issue. I’m still not entirely sure that she was happy with her hair though. I did my best, but maybe it’s worth paying the money to have a professional do it right.

We went into the family room and took a few pictures. I noted that as the years have gone on, we’ve taken fewer and fewer pictures. At least I remembered to take the dead plants off the mantle before they posed!

The happy couple left for the big dance and I was stuck with a scowling, sobbing Spice who was clutching, none to gently, a terrified puppy. Spice was tired and I’m sure unhappy to see her sister all dolled up while she had to stay home with a mama who was grumpy by this point.

We spent our evening making brownies and playing Hi Ho Cherry-O. Statistically, I cannot figure out how she kept landing on all the right numbers, while I landed on all the wrong ones. She graciously celebrated her many wins with fist pumps, butt shakes and “woo hoooos.” I drowned my sorrows in the batch of brownies.

Our evening was periodically interrupted with texts from EN asking the names of various fathers. It’s beyond me how after four years he can’t remember a single name, while I know them all off the top of my head. Thank God for the technology we are armed with so that I could help him. The best text came towards the end of the night when EN texted, “Would you let your kid wear an ass-cheek miniskirt, black nylons, knee high boots and a garter?!”

Their enchanted evening passed without drama. Sugar and her friends all played nicely and danced up a storm. EN socialized with the other dads that were left behind under the basketball hoop. EN and Sugar seemed to have met in the middle a few times to dance together.

They returned with big smiles and Sugar said, “The last one was the best one.” I guess the crappy hairdo didn’t matter so much after all.

EN has a year off as Spice will only be in kindergarten next year, which is a separate school. I can only imagine the drama she will bring to dress shopping, preparations and attendance of this event. Remind me then that I said I am no longer on the hair committee. 

Ice Princess

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