PROM NIGHT

Michele Summers

Tonight my son is going to his Junior/Senior Prom and I’m almost more excited than he is. Of course, he shoots me a huge-ass eye roll when I insist on taking his picture, looking all dapper in his tux with his Lilly Pulitzer bright-colored cummerbund and bow tie. But as he poses in front of the mantel, and outside next to the flowering trees, he smiles and hams it up and I know he’s secretly thrilled that I’m pulling an obnoxious Beverly Goldberg from the TV show The Goldberg’s.

Having attended an all-girl high school, I didn’t experience Junior/Senior Prom in the typical fashion. We had dances, for sure, and getting an invitation was coveted, (what guy didn’t want to attend a dance at an all-girl school?) but we had to do all the asking/setting up, etc. And since 90 percent of us were boarders, no parents hovered to take our pictures. We more resembled a sorority, running around the hallways with curlers in our hair, squealing and helping each other with our make-up.

However, I did attend prom with my brother at our local high school. 

Yeah, you heard me…my brother. 

Allow me to clarify. 

My brother was a regular Don Juan and girls chased him. 

All. The. Time. In his defense, he was a super nice guy (still is) and treated the homeliest of girls like she was a cover model (still does). It didn’t hurt that he was good-looking and played on the football team. But the true attraction was his ability to genuinely smile and speak to everyone. So, naturally, girls flocked to him. At the time of prom, he was probably dating three or four girls (all aware of each other’s existence) so, in order not to play favorites, he took his sister. The perfect excuse without crushing anyone’s fragile heart. And I was happy to tag along, because we were only a year apart and I had tons of friends who attended the same high school.

But the real reason we didn’t mind going to prom together…my brother and I could Shag…and we were good. In the South, knowing how to Shag was up there with college basketball, barbeque and homemade ham biscuits. At my girls’ school, we selected dates based on their shagging abilities (dance kind…not the other!) The truth: we wanted to dance. And if your date couldn’t dance…well, the night had disaster written all over it. Fortunately, my son has inherited his uncle’s dancing skills.

I hadn’t danced with my brother in years until my niece’s wedding last November. And as soon as the band struck up an old beach tune, my brother and I commandeered the dance floor. 

We still had it!

What are some of your favorite prom memories?

Michele Summers

www.michelesummers.com

NOT SO NEW IN TOWN, coming in July

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