Oh to be sixteen and have been asked to the Winter Formal by "the" Boy. To get the perfect dress, and get a mani/pedi. To have the Boy wear the tie that matches your dress. Looking out the window and seeing his car pull into the driveway, only to see his Dad's car too. It is so irksome to be 16 and excited for the dance- you just want to get into the car and go. But the parents are so tedious. The obligatory pictures in front of the fireplace. The lecture about the possible bad weather and the time to be home, and enough gas in the car. The humorous anecdotes about you that the parents tell when CLEARLY you just want to go to the dance, or anywhere else that is not standing by the fireplace listening to the parents have their nostalgic moments. The picture taking is awkward, but since you cannot leave until the parents are satiated, you pose. You are excited, but you are feeling awkward. And you definitely do NOT want to endure the "I remember when I went to the dance" musings.
This time seemed infinite and infernal, and yet, it was only seven minutes from "hello" to " Have a great time" and you ride off into the night. It would be so awesome if it was a really cool car, but even though it is the minivan with the window sticker for your older sister's school and your Mom's teacher bumpersticker, and the Norse plate on the front, it is still a bit of a rush to be headed to the winter formal- "the" Boy and the Happy Girl who said "yes"- ending weeks of speculation by friends whether you would figure out what they already knew. To the Adorable Couple.
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