My only responsibility that day was to show up at the "host house" for pictures, with her date's boutonniere in hand.
I picked up the boutonniere from the florist, and arrived at the "gig" a few minutes early -
shortly before 6:00, which is a good thing,
because the street number my daughter had given me
DID NOT EXIST.
I had been told 3110, and though the numbers on the street ranged from 3000 to 3015, there was NO "3010".
One thing reliable about teenagers, though - they rarely show up on time.
I parked my car along the street, until gradually, a caravan of cars arrived, migrating toward house # 3013.
I believe my daughter finally arrived around 6:30.
I walked down the long driveway to meet her, and entered the large, two story foyer, into the sea of homecoming dresses, neck ties....................and moms.
Soon after, my daughter's date walked up to greet her, and I handed over the boutonniere.
About a minute later...........
as if the next time I turned it, the pin would suddenly appear out of the green stemmed camouflage.
"Huh." I said. "There is definitely no pin."
" My guess is that you are not too terribly upset by this."
Easy going and a sense of humor, I thought. That's good.
I reached over to his jacket pocket, and positioned the flower so that it was peeking out, just enough.
"This will do for pictures. After that, you can do with it whatever you'd like,"
I told him.
PROBLEM SOLVED.
Both my daughter and her date seemed perfectly satisfied.
After all, amidst all of the teenage drama that coincides with Homecoming night
(not to mention, some of the "MOM" drama),
a missing boutonniere is nothing more than showing up for pictures a few minutes late.
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