Once upon a time, perhaps several years ago (more than they’d like to admit, but fewer than it could be), two people went to prom together.
Not only did they go to prom, but the operative fact is they went to prom together.
In fact, their first date was a mere week (that’s seven days, folks) before the prom and it was right. VERY right. And – wow – it was so right that she lied to her original date so she didn’t have to go to prom with him. And he knew it was so right so he went and told his original date…his “just friends” date…his “lets go together unless we find a better date” date” that he had, um, found someone better.
So thats the story I heard while I was sitting at dinner. At prom. At my very first prom ever. (Yeah, I skipped out on that whole experience in high school. Just fast forwarded through it completely. Don’t judge.)
And even though his date smiled at him and nodded and acknowledged that the original agreement applied, she wasn’t exactly thrilled at being stood up for her Senior Prom.
So she laughed, spun on her heel, marched to her car, slammed the door shut…and ran him down. Almost hit him.
She wasn’t so happy.
But he was.
He had his prom date.
His real date.
And she? She was happy.
(Never mind that her lie came back to haunt her, and her dad found out, and, well, it wasn’t pretty. Thats not the moral of the story. :-P)
She had her man.
Her Senior Prom.
And this spring?
(Here’s where it gets good. Ready for it? Brace yourself.)
She and her prom date went to prom.
Because now its their daughters who are dressing up and lookin’ pretty and dancing the night away.
There they were.
Still adorably in love after all those (not-so-many) years.