Cal's first homecoming dance is tonight.
Cal doesn't ask to go too many places, except for the occasional football game. He is content to be at home with us. To be honest, I don't know whether this is encouraging or disturbing.
I'm enjoying it for now and think that perhaps it will change when he meets more people and/or is able to drive.
We heartily encouraged his interest in attending this dance. He even gave us sufficient notice of it ~ like, an entire week.
Usually the events he wants to go to, or is SUPPOSED to go to (like parents' night), are announced either the night before or not at all, which was the case with parents' night.
"Hey, can I go to the homecoming dance next Saturday," Cal asked.
Both Chris and I gave him a startled look of surprise.
"Why yeah, sure," I said. "Do you need a suit or anything," I asked.
"It's semi formal, so can I just get a new pair of jeans," he asked.
"Jeans aren't semi-formal."
"Everyone is wearing jeans," he insisted. "I'll just wear a button down shirt. Oh, and can you buy me a vest," he asked.
The mental picture that formed in my head screamed "dork!"
"I think it would look fine without a vest," I said.
Several days ago after he had paid the 15.00 for the ticket, he reminded me of the dance, which I wholly appreciated. He used the good mood this appreciation caused in me to inform us that the dance was from 8pm-12pm.
"What," I shrieked. "I don't know if that is even possible! Dad is going to be in Fargo! I'm not sure if you can go, " I announced. Baby M insists on going to bed each evening at 6:30 and is not amenable to change, if you know what I mean. And that was just the "getting him there" problem. It didn't even address "midnight" issue.
"You need to find a ride home, because that midnight thing? It just isn't going to happen."
He found a ride home, and I was forced to verify the plan with the girl's mother, something I hate doing. If you are unsure of why, please read this blog post where at some point in my ramblings, I explained my aversion to talking on the phone, particularly to people I have never met.
I feel as if I should be more excited about this dance than I actually am. But my main thought about it is, "This is SUCH a pain in the ASS." I feel as if I should dig my camera out and take a picture of him going to his very first high school dance.
However, Chris let the baby play with the camera. It was supremely boneheaded move on his part, really, because she throws everything. EVERYTHING. And spits. She's charming at 17 months. Positively charming.
I have noticed on Facebook that other parents of high school students line their children up, well scrubbed and in suits, and take pictures of these momentous occasions.
But really, his lack of enthusiasm is a bit contagious. He hasn't made plans to go with anyone. He didn't ask anyone as his date. He doesn't really even know what he is going to do when he gets there.
"Are you meeting friends at the dance," I asked earlier today. He shrugged.
"Do you have a plan, or are you just going there to hang out," I asked.
"I'm just going there to hang out."
I don't know if this is brilliantly brave, or supremely stupid.
"So, is this an adventure to you, or are you really nervous," I inquired.
"A little bit of both," he said.
I was a neurotic and nervous child/teenager and this would never, never in a kajillion years have been something I would have done without a plan. But he just shrugs and says he'll figure it out once he gets there.
We went over the code on the garage door and I have written that code, along with my phone number, on a piece of paper for him to keep somewhere on his person. I'm a tiny bit concerned about the ride home because it would be a disasterous situation to have to rouse the baby and the 8 year old out of bed to go out to fetch him if the plan somehow goes awry.
So, I truly hope this works out. And that this "we'll see what happens" plan works in his favor.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find my cell phone. Perhaps I'll take a picture of him with that ~ not as organized or professional as some of the pictures I have seen on Facebook but whatev.
In this house, that's how we roll.