After months of preparation, prom came and went in a glorious flash. If you have a teen who has been to a prom, you know what I am talking about. If not, let me enlighten you. If you have a girl, prom preparations start months ahead. You will drive to faraway places to scout out the perfect dress, which may take several trips to locate. You will then NOT buy the gown, which will require another trip to actually make the purchase. You will shop for shoes. You will shop for undergarments. You will shop for jewelry. Boutonnieres and limos must be ordered. Prom tickets must be procured. Dinner reservations must be made. Hair, makeup and nails must be planned for. Arrangements for the evening must be presented to and approved by your child’s friends. It is no small thing.

Here is a little secret:  I did not go to my own prom. The scene in Pretty In Pink when Annie Potts speculates that her occasional feelings of having misplaced or lost something were simply a side effect of not going to the prom resonated deeply with me. I told The Girls in all seriousness that I was living vicariously through them for this experience. I was determined, just this once, to not leave everything to the last minute so that when the actual big day arrived, I could relax and enjoy it. I got almost everything taken care of on schedule, and my sister, who was flying in for prom, would take care of what I would inevitably not get done. The Girls were getting ready at a friend’s house, where a stylist was doing hair and makeup, and I envisioned a pleasant, relaxing afternoon chatting with the other moms and watching the preparations. So when Nanny, on hearing that The Girls would not be getting dressed at home, teared up and said, “I won’t even see them once in their dresses, with their hair all done up?”, I choked down my guilt and said, “There will be pictures. I promise.”

Prom day arrived and it all began to unravel. The Boy picked that weekend to go out of town and had left his dog, an immensely energetic pit bull mix, with us overnight to drop off at the kennel. That had to be done first thing, as she was beginning to regard my yorkiepoo and chihuahua with a look that said “Snack?” Then clients called with last minute, must-be-done-now projects – I had neglected to inform any of them that I would not be working that day. The Girls got out of school early, picked up the boutonnieres and tapped their feet at me until I wrapped up my work and bowed out for the afternoon. I had forgotten the minor detail of picking up my daughter’s contact lenses (damn it, missed that one), and we could have done it on the way to their friend’s house if I had actually driven to the correct doctor. My sister and I dropped them off with their friends and headed back out to pick up the lenses and hit the bank for cash for the stylist. The Girls called while we were grabbing a quick lunch. My daughter needed her lenses because she couldn’t have her makeup done until she was wearing them. And when were we picking up Nanny?

Picking up Nanny…My sister had floated the idea earlier that we could do that, could drive to get her and bring her back to the house where The Girls were. Twenty minutes there and twenty minutes back. Five minutes to get her in the car. Forty-five minutes…a lot could happen in forty-five minutes. They could be entirely done getting ready in forty-five minutes (oh, the naiveté). I hadn’t agreed, or disagreed. I simply hoped it wouldn’t come up. And now, here it was. There was only one thing to do: “She’ll be there before the limo comes.”

So, maybe we missed the hair styling. And maybe we didn’t see them get their makeup done. And maybe in the chaos we missed getting a shot of just our girls in their prom dresses, hair and makeup done. But we have this: