My Eighth Prom

Part of my penance for being naughty is that I have to do things . . . things that I didn't like to do when I was in high school, over and over again. Like the movie "Groundhog Day" but with rah, rah stuff. I wouldn't have been caught dead at a powderpuff game in high school (my high school even had one . . . I just saw it in my yearbook. I had no idea that we even did that at PCCS.) and now I go to every one. Never went to Homecoming . . . now I'm there with a walkie-talkie telling kids to "leave room for Jesus".

This week is Prom, my eighth, counting the two I went to when I was actually in high school. And I hate to admit this, but after five proms as a quasi-chaperone, I've gotten good at it. I always buy a new outfit . . . gives me something to do and gives the kids something to talk about. I only come for part of the festivities. We don't need pictures of the whole thing. I only dance after most of the children have gotten back into their obnoxious limos and left for their hotels/parties. The nice kids stay . . . and we have a nice time. Someone will request some ska and we'll jump around in our party clothes. I always go out to dinner afterward, thus giving me a real reason to dress up.

So prom won't be that bad. Always show up late and leave rather early . . . remember that it's not your job to chaperone (I'm not on the list), just to take the pictures.