Thursday, May 18, 2006

Corsage Shopping and All That That Implies . . .

Knock on wood, but aside from edit stress, things have been remarkably calm around here!!!

Tuesday, Daughter and I got Son's date's corsage ordered for the formal. We're picking out flowers in the cooler of a fairly swanky florist along with a pretty, pearl wristband holder-thingee when I asked Daughter if her boyfriend had asked what color her dress was so that he could get her a corsage. She said, no, but that the dance was no big deal and she didn't want one. Besides, it was too expensive. I said we'll manage if she really wants one. She again said the dance is no big deal. I said, if that's the case, why'd we spend a whole day picking out your dress? Silence.

I suggested she call her boyfriend to ask if he's getting her a corsage. (They've been *dating* a year now and his family lives in a great neighborhood and I'm pretty sure they aren't on food stamps, so I didn't see that this would be too awfully rude.) She looked at me as if I'd asked her to spend the weekend on Mars. I suggest she have one of her friends call him to see if he's getting her a corsage. That was equally as bad. Daughter then tells me her boyfriend's for sure not getting her a corsage. I asked how she knows. She said he would never think of it. I reminded her that we were out shopping for her brother. Seeing how her boyfriend has a perfectly fine mother, wouldn't it make sense that maybe she would help him? Silence.

Fast forward fifteen minutes down the road to the grocery store. Daughter hops out of the car and says that anyway, she'd much rather go on vacation this summer than have a corsage. I said, trust me, barring a financial miracle from the great Harlequin Office in the Sky a summer vacation is probably not in the cards and a corsage isn't the deciding factor. She said, oh.

We're shopping, shopping, picking out taco-fixings and misc. mushy treats for Granny Sylv when we pass the florist stand. It's here Daughter points to a certain flower she loves and asks the name. I don't know right off hand, but I tell her to ask the florist lady. Calla lilies. Daughter decides these are what she wants in her corsage. I said, I thought you weren't getting a corsage? She shrugs, then turns her attention to picking which line we check-out in. This is a highly technical teen process depending upon not which line is shorter, but which line has the hottest checker/bagger guy!!! Alas, only the express lane has a stud, and we have just shy of eight-thousand Granny Sylv snacks!!!

Waiting in the grocery pick-up line, Daughter says, "Yeah, I really like Calla Lilies. Those would be pretty with my dress." Okay . . . I said, Sweetie, if you want a corsage, Daddy and I would love to get you one, but please, tell me now before we get all the way home.

Yes--she wants one, but with calla lilies. We get back to the florist with about thirty seconds to spare before they close. We inquire about the lilies, but alas, they have none. They will, however, by Friday, receive a shipment of white, baby orchids. Daughter perks right up. Did someone say, orchids?

All of which brings me around to the question of why is it so hard to just come right out and ask for what we want?

In other news, yesterday, Hubby left for Atlanta. He returns home tonight. ;-)

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