The Father Daughter Ball

We did not tell the girls that they were going to the Father Daughter Ball at the very fancy Greysolon Ballroom on Friday night until the morning of the occasion.  We knew that the Banana would go out of her gourd with anticipation for the event, which the neighborhood dads had been planning on taking their daughters to for weeks now.  Predictably, The Banana was beyond excited.  Unpredictably there was no school that day because of freezing rain, so I had the privledge of being cooped up with a girl who can’t tell time and was dying to get the show on the road.  It was OK though, because it was only one day of “How many more minutes now?”  And I was happy that she was so excited.

YaYa was decidedly more skeptical.  Even though she knew her friends were going, she just did not think this was going to be a good idea.  She does not like to dance.  She did not feel like wearing a fancy dress, and really, there weren’t many choices of fancy dresses in her size to choose from, since she doesn’t really care to be that fancy.  The later the day grew the more anxious she got, and the more angry she was with me, even though the ball wasn’t my idea and I wasn’t taking her  or telling her what to wear.  She was angry, angry ANGRY at me because her clothes were wrinkled.  She was angry that I offered to iron them.  She was angry that I wanted to take her picture.  She was angry when I said I wasn’t going to take her picture if she didn’t want me to and she was angry that The Banana, fancy fashionista wanted her picture taken.  Oooooof.  It all landed on me.  Llama Llama Drama Drama.  She eventually chose to wear a paisley church dress and brown tights and shoes and then accompanied that with a neon green running jacket because she didn’t want to be “too fancy.”  Then she skulked around and glared until her daddy came home.

He told her to trust him and loaded the girls into the van to pick up the neighbors and off they went, The Banana bouncing all the way.  Mr. SP and I did a big sigh of relief when they walked out the door.  Then I made popcorn on the stove (without even setting anything on fire!) and Mr. TOF and Mr. SP settled in on the couch with the ipad to watch Sean the Sheep while they munched away.  Mr. TOF was over the moon happy because he LOVES popcorn.

This is what the boys did while the girls were fancifying themselves.  It totally cracks me up!  Mr. SP is of course reading fervently.  It doesn’t matter if the book is thick or thin, that’s what he does ALL day long (except when he’s pestering someone).  These early reader books had just come down from the attic for The Banana to practice reading.  Mr. TOF loves to be like his big brother, so he plucked a book, laid down and nonchalantly crossed his legs while reading “Pompeii:  Buried ALIVE!”  Oh goodness.  They are so funny.

After popcorn, I gave Mr. TOF a bath and Mr. SP picked up the toys very nicely so that we could play games, and he and I spent the rest of the evening playing Bandu and Battleship.  We had a great time.

Sadly, The Banana ended up having to come home a bit early because she was feeling sick. She was really, really disappointed about not feeling good, especially after all that anticipation.    Half an hour later, when one of the neighborhood dads dropped her off, YaYa came bustling in the door, (the running jacket discarded, by the way) absolutely elated.  She had the BEST time ever and she was literally bouncing up and down with joy and uncontainable excitement, talking 27 miles a minute and telling me all about how terrific the ball had been and all the amazing and wonderful things they did.  In the words of Dr. Peds, “It was a blast” and hopefully a neighborhood tradition, because a blast is always better with amazing friends, right?