Boys Rule

I went dress shopping last Sunday afternoon. We have some adult events coming up (shocking, I know), and since I have very little in my closet that fits me, Kenny graciously agreed to stay with the boys while I went off in search of something fancy to add to my wardrobe.

I struck out horribly at Loft but wasn’t discouraged enough not to try my luck at Macy’s. I brought no less than 15 dresses into the fitting room with me (slyly disregarding the sign stating there was a limit of 6), my left arm crying out in discomfort at having to support that much weight while I waited for a room to open up. (I had indentations from the hangers visible on my arm until late that night. It was bad.)

Finally a room opened up. I deposited the heavy load onto the rack, briefly surveyed what I had picked out, crossed my fingers that at least one of them would work out, and began the arduous process of trying on.

A few dresses in, I overheard a girl, who was obviously shopping for a prom dress, have an exchange with her mom. The dressing room area quickly filled with the sounds of her teenage angst: “OMG, but this one is so ugly. I can’t wear this. It’s so ugly!” (I’m paraphrasing here, but you get the idea.)

  

A few minutes later, after being shown the repulsive dress and hearing a firm rejection of it, the mom came back in and asked her daughter if she had gotten dressed again yet. The girl asked why (in a voice absolutely laced with attitude), opened the door, and was presented with another option. “How about trying this one?”, the mom said. (Keep in mind that I am only hearing all of this from within my own dressing room. I didn’t see any of it.)

 

The girl outright turned it down in 1.2 seconds flat (“Ew, I don’t like that one either!). The mom held her ground, though, powerfully choosing to say nothing and just wait. The girl ended up saying, “Fiiiiine, I guess I’ll try it on for you.” She put the garment on and went out to the area where all of the husbands and dads and various other family members were waiting, wondering why they couldn’t be anywhere else on a Sunday afternoon than sitting on an uncomfortable couch in the women’s department of a Macy’s. The girl’s dad was apparently a part of that group because I heard him say, “That’s actually the best one you’ve tried all day!”

 

Sorry, dad, but that’s not the way to get your teenage daughter’s approval, by siding with her mother, the one who actually picked the dress out and deigned to present it to the ice princess.

The princess then stormed back into her dressing room, slammed the door, took off the offending frock, put her own clothes back on, and stormed out, slamming the door once again. Her dream of the perfect prom dress was not realized that day, but if she has anything to say about it, it WILL happen.

All the while, I listened to the exchange, calmly continuing to try my own selections on. But I had to shake my head and smile at what I heard. I smiled because I’m sure I went through a very similar situation with Nola at one point. I smiled because I know Erin will probably go through something like this with Kate one day. But what I smiled at the most…..the very first thing that popped into my head…..

….. was that I am SO glad I have two boys.

Oh, and by the way, three of those 15 dresses actually worked and are now hanging in my closet. Score.