Of Teens and Ticking Time Bombs

promSometimes our kids drop bomb shells – but this this time Pedro gave us a ticking time bomb.

He told us months ago that he had agreed to bring a friend to her senior prom. I registered the information and quickly forgot it.

So did he.

Until this week when he realized the event was Saturday night.

After mentally kicking myself for missing this one, I took a deep breath, then started firing questions (as only we mothers can do!)

Me: “But son – you are scheduled to work Saturday! And did you get her a corsage? And what are wearing?”

Pedro: “What’s a corsage? And I’m wearing jeans.”

Oh my.

Me: “First – a corsage is an arrangement of flower that girls wear, they expect the guy to bring it when he picks them up. It should match her dress.”

Pedro: “Where do I get one and is this going to cost money?”

Me: “Yes, this will cost money. First find out the color of her dress and we’ll go from there. Oh and ask about the jeans. I don’t think that idea will fly.”

He started texting. A few minutes passed.

Pedro: “She said NO to the jeans. Now what I’m going to wear?”

I am not surprised.

But still – this is a problem. The kid doesn’t own a suit. His dad has a very nice suit – but Pedro’s at least an inch taller.

It’s Thursday. The nearest men’s store is 2 hours away. Ditto for a¬† place to rent a tuxedo. Not that we wanted to spend much money on this.

Why, oh why didn’t I remember this date!

Then I remember the two suits I picked up at the thrift store over a year ago for the Valentine Banquet. One was too big and one was too small. They were in the boxes that were supposed to be donated last Friday – but the thrift store was closed.

Divine intervention?

He found them and tried them on. One suit coat was much too big – but the pants could be taken in.

The other coat fit well – but the pants were so tight he couldn’t even button them.

Not to worry! I could let out several inches in the waist.

He could now get them buttoned – but still couldn’t breathe. He thought breathing was important – so I let even more out – taking it to the very edge.

He could now breath and speak – but only in a high shrill voice.

This wasn’t going to work.

I took a few minutes to study out the situation.

There was no way I wanted to tackle altering the suit coat from suit number one. No way. But the pants I could easily take in.

And then it hit me! What if he wore the pants from the first suit and the suit coat from the second? They were both a dark gray pin strip and the the strips were almost identical.

Almost – but not quite. But still – you would have to look pretty close to find the difference.

And it would be at night.

Who would notice? Right?

I tested my theory with both of his sisters and it passed.

A ten minute sewing job and the kid had a suit that would pass on prom night.

We’ll just keep that switcheroo our little secret – okay?

Now onto the corsage.

But first – I need chocolate.

And a secretary.

Dating My Husband

465px-bundesarchiv_bild_183-2004-0512-507_spaziergangI was talking to a good friend in church yesterday when she said, “My husband asked me to take a walk in the moonlight last night…”

“How exciting!” I responded, not noticing the twinkle in her eyes.

“Yes”, she said, “we walked in the moonlight with a million stars over our heads!”

“Ohhh, how romantical!” I gushed. “Did he hold your hand?”

Then she laughed, “No, we were both holding flashlights in one hand and he had a calf puller in the other. My husband needed help finding a cow that had wandered off to have her calf.”

As I heard the story about the lost cow and their adventure in the moonlight I couldn’t help but think that it could be considered a date.

My definition of a date has changed over the years. I used to think that it was an official date only if we went out to eat and did something fun without the children.

As the babies kept coming and the finances got tighter, I soon realized that my idea was no longer practical.

I discovered that often it was those “stolen” moments in the day that became special.

Sipping root beer floats in the porch swing on a hot summer evening after the kids went to bed…

Cuddling on the couch while watching a movie…

Feeding the kids early and lighting candles to eat our supper together alone when he works late…

Waking up early and enjoying a quiet breakfast together before he heads out the door…

Holding hands on a family walk while we watch the children run on the trail ahead of us…

The secret is being together. It’s finding time to enjoy each other within the busyness of our day to day life.

It’s being creative with the time I have alone with my husband.

Even if it’s a walk in the moonlight to look for a lost cow.

Depression Era Food

My Mother-in-law was here for supper the other night and we had quite an interesting discussion on foods that were eaten during the Great Depression.

Both my Dad and my husband’s dad were alive during the later years of the Depression and it left a lasting impression on their eating habits and memories.

Some of these include:

* Eating a bowl full of crushed saltines covered with milk as a snack.

* Enjoying radish sandwiches every spring.

* Melting lard over popcorn instead of butter.

* Eating rice with milk and cinnamon and sugar.

* Enjoying a dish of cooked macaroni noodles, crushed saltines and melted butter.

* Taking a lard sandwich to school for lunch.

It seems that their parents¬† learned to be content with what they had and just made it work. The kids didn’t seem to even know the difference! They learned to like what they were served and did just fine.

They gave new meaning to the word Thrift, not because they wanted too, but because they had no choice.