In which I Continue the Previous Post with no Warning except this title
For instance, last week we went to see a high school musical, which was not High School Musical. It was Les Mis. I loved Les Mis and like to support the local high schools because they don’t get any publicity. And you could tell because there was hardly anyone there on a Saturday night. That always makes me sad because those kids really do work hard.
None of that was my parenting point. There was this couple there with a four year old girl and a two year old boy. To see Les Mis? Yes. That boy literally ran around and was distracting the entire second half. He didn’t want to be there. So instead of his teen mom taking him out to the lobby to let him run around, she let him run around the whole right side of chairs and go up to the stage and wave and when she’d try to make him sit down he would scream. In my parenting opinion, she should have taken him out in the nicest possible way. It’s not judging, it’s courtesy.
Anyway, I’m off my high horse and with my much less than perfect daughter Sunshine watching her get a mani/pedi for Senior prom. Everyone says it’s early but mine was May 19th, a day that will live in infamy, which seemed late so who knows.
My date was arrested after prom at a checkpoint driving down the local cruise to meet our friends at a hotel. He had no driver’s license. I really can pick a winner. They were pulling over every third car and it was the only time I’d ever been picked for anything. Wa-wah.
Sunshine is a much better kid who makes much better decisions. *knock wood* She and three friends are going to a movie in a little bit and then to eat, then to our house to get ready and then prom at the museum. After prom is maybe midnight bowling with more people.
Awwwww to be young again. I’d probably go to the after prom at the local amusement park, which was just a cover story. Maybe I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to grow up. But I’m also more than happy to be up until 1 am sewing Sunhine’s prom dress because procrastination seems to run in the family.
And just real quick until I can get a picture of her. We’re at a You Pick Color type establishment and this smell of acrylic nails that’s getting in my lungs can not be good for you, right? If you’ve never experienced it, go get yourself a pedicure and take an oxygen mask. I’m sitting by the door and the smell is overpowering. It’s called ventilation, people.
She can’t breathe!!
But really pretty feet.