When my kids were little, they fought so bad I considered adopting them out to separate families and starting over. So imagine my surprise when a newly-engaged Hillary included Parker on the short list of people who must be present on Shopping for the Dress Day.
We converged on the little local shop of her choice, each ready to fulfill our designated assignments. I was to help in the dressing room, give emotional support, and (of course) hand over the cash if a dress was found. Parker was to take pictures and videos on her phone, and use his practiced eye and brutal honesty to keep her from believing the salesgirl's hype. He never bends the truth over something as silly as sparing your feelings. ("Do these pants make me look fat?" Quick glance. "Yes.") Hillary's job was pretty much to pretend to be a princess, have fun, and direct this Disney movie.
The doors opened and we walked through.
Rows and rows of fluffy white surrounded us. Hillary and I couldn't help sharing a little "this is happening!" squeal. The salesgirl (who was wearing a dress so short I wanted to cover Parker's eyes) led us through the store. She asked our budget, which quickly narrowed us down to a handful of hanging racks. We started pulling dresses.
And the fun began!
In the dressing room, I lifted and tugged and zipped and laced and fluffed and smoothed. And we laughed. A lot.
Each time Hillary emerged, followed by her loyal train-bearing mum, Salesgirl oohed and ahhed and used 25 synonyms for "beautiful". Parker looked up from his phone and said things like "nice" or "too poofy" or "that one's better".
After trying on several dresses, Hillary started to narrow down the aspects she liked and didn't like.
"I like how flowy this one is."
"Hmm...I think I like the sweetheart neckline better."
"Definitely not this kind of waist-line."
Parker dutifully went back to the racks, searching for dresses that contained all the right elements and none of the wrong ones. Just like a man. A helpful man.
And then I slipped one dress over her head as she looked in the mirror and I heard a soft "wow" slip from her lips.
NOW we're getting somewhere...
She had been concerned at the beginning that she might like so many dresses it would be too hard to choose. And she did like several. But somehow, you know when you slip on The One.
She swayed out and stood on the pedestal in front of the mirror. Salesgirl went bananas. And Parker said, "I like it!" Hillary couldn't wipe the smile off her face. She twirled and turned to look at herself from every angle. I could tell she didn't want to take it off. Holding out her hands she sing-songed "I think we're saying yes to the dress..."
I paid (it happened to be half-off! a small miracle..) and we spent the rest of the day browsing antique shops for veil ideas, getting Starbucks, and having dinner at the Mexican restaurant with Aunt Cassie. The conversation was as good as the food. And I didn't have to break up a single argument ;)
When it was time to all go our separate ways, Parker hugged his sister and said, "I'm proud of you."
And I was proud too...proud that my son was willing to help his sister, and that my daughter was willing to share her special day with her brother. Proud to have children I can LIKE as well as love.
I guess I'll keep them after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment