Homecoming came early this year considering school started two and a half weeks ago. I don’t usually give homecoming much thought since Logan is now a senior and has not once gone to Homecoming, or any other dance for that matter. When asked why he doesn’t go his response has been something like “they’re stupid” or “I just don’t wanna.” So when I found out he was going this year I was a little excited. I wouldn’t want him to look back and wished he would have had that experience at least once.
So that brings me to how exactly I found out. You would think that Logan would come home and inform us he’s going to homecoming. Not so much. One of my friends, who is also a mom of a gal his friend is dating, posted on my Facebook page, “Kendall is going to homecoming in the same group as Logan!” As I read it, I tilted my head with a confused look and said, “Huh?” This was 5 days before homecoming.
So Logan comes home from cross country and I say, “So you’re going to homecoming?” He just smirked and said, “Ya.” This is a common response from Logan. I asked who he was taking and he said he was not taking a date and only going with a group of people. I then discussed what he was going to wear and he provided as little information as possible in typical Logan fashion. Based on what he did provide, I gathered he would be wearing red Converse and a white button up shirt. I assumed pants would be involved but our conversation lasted a minute longer than what Logan usually likes, so it was left off with the white button up shirt.
We’re now 3 days out from homecoming arriving and there have been no further discussions surrounding it. It’s times like this I think what it must be like to have a daughter. Taking her shopping, trying on 13 dresses, finally deciding on the first one, deciding on makeup, hair, scheduling mani/pedis, and getting ready for hours prior to. It would be an exciting time for both daughter and mother. I got a 2 minute conversation discussing Converse, a white shirt, and debating on whether they would go to Subway or Blazin Onion for dinner.
Homecoming is now 2 days away and I get another Facebook message from the same mom stating, “So pictures are at your house on Saturday?” Again, same tilted head and confused look followed by, “Huh?” So Logan comes home and I ask him, “Pictures are at our house?” “Oh ya, people are coming over and their parents are taking pictures.” I asked him if he thought this might be important information for me to know so that I could prepare. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I guess so.” I’m sure you’re thinking at this point, “What is wrong with this kid?” I have asked myself this many times. I’m not sure if it’s just a boy thing, a Logan thing, or a combination of the two. That said, he does have many other strengths, it’s just that planning ahead, organizing, and communicating things are not at the top of the list. We’re working on it.
So the day arrives. Throughout the day I ask him three times what time people are coming over. Three times I get different answers, “I don’t know, I think 4:30,” and “Maybe around 5,” and “probably between 4:30 and 5:00.” Again, not one of his strengths. I write my friend on Facebook and ask her if she knows what time people are coming over, feeling like an idiot for having to ask what time people are coming over to my house. No response. 4:30 arrives and I’ve been busy reading blogs, picking up the house, tending to the little kids, and I realize I haven’t seen or heard from Logan in hours. I get a phone call 10 minutes later from Logan telling me he and his friend are going to pick up his friend’s date. I reminded Logan in my stern mom voice that people are arriving whom I don’t know and he’d better hurry. I hang up and pour myself a glass of wine. The door bell rings.
Thankfully it’s my friend and her husband and their daughter. Some more parents and kids arrive. Next thing I know I have a house full of people and no Logan. Did I mention my husband is gone for the evening? It gets worse. I’m trying my best to make conversation, discussing how our kids know each other, talking about how great everyone looks, then the subject of dates come up. I make a casual comment about Logan going to his first dance ever and he doesn’t even have a date. This sweet girl standing in my living room next to her mom, both with confused looks (Logan causes these) says to me, “Actually I’m Logan’s date.” I am going to kill him.
I then have to explain to a room full of people, trying to make light of it, how Logan doesn’t tell me these things. The moms of the boys all give me a knowing look, which makes me feel a little better about my apparent lack of parenting skills. I look at the mom of Logan’s date and say, “He really is a good kid,” doubting my own words as I say them. She gives me a comforting look, assumingly doubting my words as well. I pour another glass of wine.
It’s now 5:30, people have been in my house for 30 minutes all waiting for Logan, his friend, and his friend’s date. Logan finally walks in. He looks stunning, flashes me and the room full of people his gorgeous grin, makes his charming, smartass comments that only Logan can do, and all is forgiven from Mom. The next half an hour is spent outside taking pictures, everyone having a great time, laughing, doing fun poses, the boys all awkward around their dates and their parents. It’s exactly how I imagined this part would go. I look at Logan as he’s goofing around with his friends, even after his disregard for manners and planning, I think to myself he’s such a neat kid. His date’s mom walks over to me and says, “I feel so much better now meeting you and Logan. He’s a good kid.”
Yes he is.