Some twenty plus years ago my hair was curled, my finger nails were painted and photos were taken with a camera still containing film. I specifically remember the fifties themed year. I wore a purple felt poodle skirt made by my grandma and my dad took me to a local fifties themed diner which I'm sad to report is now a spray tan shop. My hair was piled high on my head and my mom even put a light swipe of pink lipstick on me. Last night it was her turn. With hair piled high on her head and mango flavored chapstick coating her lips she went to her first father daughter dance in the same auditorium I went to mine. It continues...
Remember hot sticks? These babies curled my hair for every dance recital, holiday and special occasion. It continues...
We painted finger and toes with her favorite hot pink. I could feel hot tears pooling in my eyes. She's growing up so fast. Last night was her first official dance and her date was Daddy. Will she still let me paint her nails when it's her senior prom? How am I going to handle it when her date isn't Daddy? I'm already praying the Lord will give us grace when the time comes. For now I will cherish her littleness. The way she admires herself in the mirror, admires Mom's handy work on her fingers and toes and was almost beside herself with giddiness waiting to show Daddy how she looked.
She made a special request for Daddy's pink tie. These two just love each other so much.
Then they were off. Hand in hand they walked to the school.
Fun fact, my first high school dance that I was allowed to go to I held that same hand and the same hot sticks curled my hair. I'm blessed he's my husband, my kids are blessed he's their daddy. He postponed a work trip so that he could take her. They had a great time. She came home bursting. The dance was fun, but I know it was because he was her date. Call me partial, but he is a pretty fun date. She has already mentioned next year's dance. It continues...
