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My Husband's First Prom Shopping Experience by Carol Wells

Despite protestations, and signs of being an unwilling participant, Carol's husband goes on an adventure. This story may help illustrate a probable reason why men reputedly do not like going to the malls. Then again, this same story may share with others how sometimes it is never too late to have a first!

My daughters, from my first marriage, get along with my second husband although I have to admit that both sides are still learning about each other. My daughters have also, sometimes inadvertently, shared some things with Frank that he may not have otherwise experienced - such as moments of handling sibling rivalry, visiting special places, quirky pets, or shopping for a formal dance.

Frank did not attend his high school's prom nights. He says that he does not regret missing this social event and I believe him, as he does not enjoy large social events. On the other hand, the absence of this experience has helped to limit Frank's knowledge about how others may view prom night. You can imagine his delight when I had him accompany me for a day of shopping for my oldest daughter's Senior Prom.

"What do you think of this dress," I asked while holding up a dress, giving the hanger a slight spin on the tips of my fingers so he could see part of the back along with the front.

"Carol, I don't know what to think," he replied then took advantage of this opportunity to share a reminder about him lacking past experience with proms. Frank may have hoped this honesty would excuse him from accompanying me. What he hoped for did not pan out and Frank continued to wearily follow me from shop to shop, within the mall.

Finally, I selected a dress, in royal blue, which would compliment my oldest daughter's complexion. He released a sigh of a relief as we now had the major hurdle out of the way.

"OK, what now," he asked while paying for the dress. In hindsight I realize he expected to hear a different reply than the one received.

"Well, the dress is sleeveless," I mused while the clerk slipped it into a plastic bag. "So we need to find a shawl or something for her shoulders. Oh, and an evening bag to carry her prom ticket and lipstick in."

"Shawl?"

"Yeah, you know," I replied while pretending to put on an invisible one, "a little piece of material a woman wears over her shoulders."

"I know what a shawl is but will she need one? With the prom held in April, wouldn't she be wearing her coat?"

"Well, she can't wear her school jacket with that dress. It would totally ruin the effect plus look tacky," I pointed out.

He bit back a sigh while following me out of the store carrying the dress. Six stores later, I found an adorable charcoal gray evening handbag that would accent the dress's silver marquisette buttons.

He started to reach in his pocket for his wallet. "Not yet," I said. "I want to see what another store has before deciding."

He silently followed, as I lead the way with a purposeful pace while his feet shared a slightly less enthusiastic stride, toward the store on the opposite end of the mall. He knew in advance that this excursion to another store would have perusal strolls through at least five other stores along the way. "Ah," I said with pride as we stood in front of an evening bag display. "This is the one!"

"I thought you said that about the other purse," Frank asked as an adorable expression of confusion washed over his face while he pointed over the shoulder toward the general direction where we seen the earlier handbag.

"Well, the other one would work but this one is better. Look at the beading on it! This evening bag will definitely accent the dress."

"So, do I pay or wait?"

"Oh, pay definitely! There are only four of this style left," I replied while handing the smiling cashier the now-prized evening bag. "Now, we can start looking for the shawl and some jewelry. Do you think a choker or a long necklace will better? I am also thinking that maybe dangly earrings would look nice, oh, but what if she pins up her hair?"

He did not say a word, but shot me a look that spoke volumes.

About The Author:

© 1999-2006 Carol Wells

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