When I saw the UPS truck pull in front of the house yesterday, my stomach started to get queasy. That brown truck meant only one thing, or in our case two things. The dresses were about to be delivered. I accepted the plastic bag (when did some stores stop using boxes) from the nice man and carried it into the kitchen. I carefully opened one end of the package and pulled out two smaller plastic bags. I said a prayer and hollered to the middle kid that her dresses had arrived.
I called out again and this time walked to her room and knocked on her locked door. Oh yes, she locks her door when she studies. The squeal issuing forth from behind the door guaranteed that this time she heard me. I was allowed into her room and we opened the bags and shook out the dresses. She tried on her third choice dress first. It fit. It looked cute. She smiled.
Then she tried on her second choice. It fit. It looked really cute. She posed. She twirled. She grinned. She flipped her hair. She stood on tiptoes to mimic heels.
"Ohhhh Mommy, this is the ONE!"
Thank the good Lord and all the saints in heaven.