Just A Dance

I remember when Arianna was born, Rob and I had all the teen rules laid out in stone. Our daughter will NOT be attending any school dances....we used to say emphatically because, of course, we knew what happened at school dances. Boys looked at girls. Not our gentle angelic soul. We would spare her from the heartbreak and public humiliation that is the "school dance." Then middle school happened and she went to a 7th grade class that taught her all the social graces. It quietly culminated in a little "formal" where they practiced their newly acquired etiquette, dressed up, ate with the correct fork, boys asked girls to dance and the girls were required to graciously accept. It was harmless, educational fun. Then 8th grade came. "Can I stay after school for the 'dance'?" she asked us one day. After school? Just a dance. In the gym. In the daytime. How bad could that be? Besides, she had locked arms with some equally angelic girls in her FCA club and they would all be there together. I went to pick her up just before it was over. I cased the joint. I slipped in the back door and perused the dark gym floor. Just as I suspected....boys standing awkwardly on one side and girls standing awkwardly on the other. All the while, the school cop, Officer Freeman, weaved his way in and out of them all.  Safe.  Benign.
But this was all child's play compared to the behemoth of a dance that awaited her in High School. It is upon us now. It is HOMECOMING. (insert maniacal laughter)  At first we told Arianna, "Just go with your friends, have a good time, no pressure, just fun, just you...alone." And then it started. A little at first and then a landslide. Postings, pictures, tweets about daughters being asked to Homecoming. This is done, I've discovered, in no mild mannered way. It has to be a grand gesture. I don't remember this in my high school...Homecoming to me was about football. Maybe it's an ArkLaTex thing, like the gigantic mum corsages.

Nevertheless, we were in Rome and pressure was building on Arianna to fret about Homecoming with her Roman friends. I joined in the fret fest, because I'm really good at fretting. Every day Arianna had a new story. One guy outlined his body with white chalk and used yellow police tape, then made a sign that said "I'm dying to go to Homecoming with you." Another, showed up at soccer practice with a sign..."Kick it with me at Homecoming?" All over her school, her single friends were pairing off. We began the parental consoling speech. "It's just a dance Arianna. It won't be the end of the world if you don't get asked. You'll still be with your girlfriends..."

And then (cue the Halleluiah chorus) we got a call, a request, a heads up. A suitor was on his way.
"I'm going to hide in the bushes and video it," I told Rob.
"What is wrong with you?" he asked, as if he really wanted an answer.
(I still can't believe he thought it was a bad idea.) The door bell rang. I wanted to answer it. I wanted to fling the door open and applaud this guy for realizing that my Arianna is a catch. How much courage did it take to ring that door bell? How brave and romanitc...to lay his vulnerable soul bare on a Poster board.  I wanted to squeal and give him a high five but Rob, once again, restrained me. Arianna went for the door and I held my breath. Why? Because I was in Rome. (And because I'm hormonal.)
He asked, she said yes and thunderous applause erupted in my soul. Arianna, who usually blocks every effort I make to document any event with photography, even let me take a picture...just one. I posted it. His parents posted it. And one commenter pointed out, "Kids, it's just a dance, not a marriage proposal."
Ahhh.....yes, just a dance. Unless your kid is the one ringing the door bell. Unless your kid is the one answering the door. Then you know...it's more than a dance. It's a hallmark.  It's the one foot out the door. It's her eyes looking on someone other than her dad for attention, affection, affirmation and it's this teenage boy...giving her all three....all at once.
It's the beginning of the end.
But yes, other than that...just a dance.