"Will you go to the prom with me?"

Yep, you read that right. I am going to the prom. I came downstairs from putting the boys to bed tonight, & Ben asked me rather tentatively, "Rhondi, will you go to the prom with me?" I was transported back to senior year in an instant. Except this time, I was not sitting outside my house in my best friend's Jeep, immediately wondering what my dress would look like, where we would go to dinner, & how we could get alcohol (OK, so those were my not-so-great years). Instead, I was standing in my kitchen, wondering who I could get as a babysitter & if I could find anything to wear that didn't have spit-up on it. Sexy.
Rocketown is having an annual high school prom next weekend, & Ben thought it would be fun to get dressed up & go. I don't think y'all realize how huge this is. It's a ridiculous understatement to say that Ben hates dressing up for anything. Dressing up for Ben is getting him to wear his Vans rather than his Adidas. For him to wear a simple button-down is an undertaking I do not wish to attempt. I, on the other hand, love to dress up. Anything that allows me to get into a pretty dress & do my hair & make-up is quite a treat. I'm used to slapping my grody hair back into a ponytail & living in jeans & a tank top. So I jumped at the chance & quickly accepted his offer.
I'll be posting pictures of the big night here on this very blog. Don't you worry.

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