Her Shoes Sparkle

I make it a point not to display too many pictures of my blossoming teenage daughter on the world wide web of strangers, but, well... tonight IS the big night of the first dance. We arrived at the river just in time for every other mother with a camera and their own blossoming teenage children and a definite agenda to snap as many photos as the setting sun would allow. My meager little Canon PowerShot from way back when was no match for the monstrosities some of these women were lugging around, so I mostly stayed in the background and did what I do best.

Observed.

I watched girls the same age as my daughter made up to look like they were pushing twenty-one. Teased hair, heavy make-up, low-cut dresses, and four-inch heels made me mourn their lost childhood. To be fair, these girls were not in the majority and they were few and far between, but the contrast was obvious. My girl? She was sporting her sparkly Vans (that's a basic sneaker to us not-into-brand-name people), simple black dress, classy hair, and jazzed-up earrings.

But then again, I am her mom.

She WAS the best looking one there.

She went with her "he's just my friend" date, received her first corsage, and just about made her mother cry. As they were leaving for the dance, her dad snatched her up and with one arm around her, whispered in her ear long enough to make the others who were waiting turn around to watch. It was the most touching moment ever. When I asked him later what that was all about, he simply responded with "just a little information about boys and dances."

And to think I had to make him tag along.

May you always sparkle, daughter of mine. =)