The Brainiac and Frenchie
Last night at 5:45 p.m. the Brainiac, who was sitting at the computer in her sweats, with her hair in a ponytail, announced she was going to Homecoming.
She was going to meet her boyfriend and the rest of the group at 6:30 to pose for pictures of all the couples in their dresses and suits and wanted to know if I would help her with her hair.
That Brainiac. She drives me crazy.
The problem is that the Brainiac's boyfriend doesn't like dances. So they don't go to the dances, but every now and then to be nice he will put on a suit and attend the pre-dance dinner and the after-dance party so that she can have the dressing-up experience.
Last night he decided to take the hit.
But - not knowing that - the Entrepreneur and I had made dinner plans with another couple and we were leaving at 6 p.m.
That meant that I didn't get to see The Brainiac all dressed up with MAKEUP on or get to tag along to the house where the pictures were being taken to stand around with the other parents with that puffed-up feeling we all have that our daughter is the prettiest by far and certainly the smartest.
I really felt robbed.
To make me feel better, The Athlete popped her head out the door as I was leaving for dinner. She was wearing a pair of giant athletic shorts that once belonged to her brother and she had mashed potatoes on her chin.
"Don't worry mom. You can do the big dance thing with me for sure," She said.
I think I can wait for that one. I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to see The Athlete in heels.