Mother of the Homecoming Date

     My girl has a date for the Homecoming dance. She is ecstatic. I am petrified. She may be old enough for this, but what about me? And what, exactly, is the proper role for the Mother-of-the-Homecoming-Date in today’s exaggerated high-school social scene? I’ve checked, and Emily Post provides no guidance whatsoever on this momentous rite of passage. Too bad, because I could really use some help. To do too little will make me seem as though I don’t care, and to do too much will make me seem like a helicopter mom living vicariously through her child’s social engagement. Like so many other parenting challenges, it’s a tricky balancing act.
     The first question on my mind is The Mum. Who buys it, and how extravagant should it be? Mums are a very important part of the Homecoming scene, and big business for our school’s PTA. Mum Moms have been toiling for months cutting ribbon and assembling the elaborate corsages that both girls (and boys!) wear to the big game. Friends who grew up in other areas of the country seem perplexed by the hugely beribboned mum; I take it from their attitudes that our custom is a peculiarly Texan affair. I wasn’t previously aware of the cultural disparity, and thought all high school girls everywhere spent Homecoming day wearing corsages that make them resemble a Kentucky Derby winner. But what I personally find unusual is the trend in large armband corsages, complete with ribbons and teddy bears, for the guys. When I was in high school, a young man would rather have been boiled in oil than alight from his pickup truck sporting such an accessory. Obviously, times have changed.

     Then, there’s The Homecoming Dress. Fortunately for me, this particular detail was settled before I even knew it was an issue; I was thus saved much wailing and gnashing of teeth during hours of fruitless shopping at Northpark. My daughter found the “perfect” dress and shoes during the summer and bought them with an optimistic eye toward the future. When she announced that the outfit was for Homecoming, I was skeptical. “Do Freshmen go to the Homecoming dance? “ I asked. She accused me of doubting her ability to land a date. But truly, I never doubted her success for a minute (her dating prospects are what keep me awake nights) and attributed my confusion to a distant memory, from the dark ages of my own high school years, that only Juniors and Seniors attend the dance. Many, many things seem to start earlier now, and I clearly still have some distance to travel in catching up with the times.

     Finally, there’s The Pre-Dance Photo Op. Previously, I’ve seen caravans of cars lined up at neighbors’ homes around this time of year and asked myself, “Who died?” Nobody, fortunately. The traffic jam was just the dance attendees, along with their parents, gathering at one photogenic house to snap dozens of pictures in finery they’ll never wear again, with dates they may not even be talking to next week. This year, by some mysterious lottery, we have been designated as photo hosts. While I’m flattered that my home has been deemed worthy of the honor, I’m also a bit nervous. Of course I’ll have to clean the house, and perhaps even paint the front hall. But should I serve snacks to the other parents? Cocktails? Maybe I’ll have one now.

     The only saving grace in this whole affair is that my daughter’s date can’t drive yet, so there’s no worry about her riding off alone with a boy who has borrowed his mom’s nice car for the big night. At this point, unsupervised car travel might actually put me over the edge. Instead, I assume we parents will be pressed into chauffer service for the game and dinner (another detail to work out), to the dance, and back home afterward. At least I hope that’s what everyone has in mind. I really, really don’t want to have to pitch in for a limo. Not yet. We all need to save something for the kids’ weddings, or at least for the Senior Prom.