Dream Date

Day 125

There’s a tradition at the high school in our town that my husband and I don’t understand but enjoy nonetheless.  Since I don’t understand it, please forgive me if I get some of the details wrong.

Before formals, boys (in the fall) and girls (in the spring) concoct elaborate plans to ask a date to the dance. 

For example, earlier in the school year a banner hung the length of a house on Mitchell Farm Lane with bold block letters asking, “Will you?”  We automatically assumed it was a teen inviting another to the dance and not a marriage proposal.  We were right.  (She said yes.)  I’ve heard of asks involving marching band, a room full of classmates and lots and lots of flowers.   

A friend contacted me to see if I could make some cookies for her daughter as part of a winter-themed idea that included brownies, cookies and a puzzle (I think, again, I’m shady on the details).  I agreed immediately because I think her daughter is adorable. 

I run a small baking business out of my house but kept it a secret that I was giving her the cookies until she came to pick them up.   

My husband (once a teenage boy himself) appreciates the effort the girls are making but makes a fair point: They’re a girl, right?  The way he explains it, any conversation between a girl and boy sounds something like this:

Girl: Hi?  I was ….

Boy: Yes. 

On a side note, this explanation also brings into a focus for me a very clear picture of my husband as a teen.

Let’s be clear, my friend’s daughter is a gorgeous, talented teen who is sweet to her little brother and has a smile that can light up not a room but an entire auditorium (we know this because we watched her play the lead in the winter musical). 

I doubt my cookies did anything to sway this boy’s decision.  I’m betting he couldn’t say yes fast enough.