Middle School Dance Redux

It's hard to believe, but I chaperoned another middle school dance. This time, I actually volunteered at the school's valentine's day soiree. Cat was not pleased when I followed her out of the car and headed toward the gym.

Cat: Where do you think you're going? Yikes, she used that same tone of voice my mother did the time she caught me coming in late after a football game.

Contessa: I'm chaperoning.

Cat: Why? It'll be just like the YMCA dances. Let's cut to the quick. She knows I'd rather sunbathe on a beach filled with Sports Illustrated swim suit models than chaperone another Y dance.

Contessa: No, it's not. It's your school and they need my help so you kids can have a good time. Some of us are serving refreshments, others are taking pictures. Some moms are running the shoe check. That's like hat checks in old movies, where men dropped off their hats and picked them up on the way out. Seems tweens think they're actually capable of dancing in five-inch stillettos. Oh, and medics are there to bandage sprained ankles. You need me there to help give you a fun night. What I'm really saying: I'm going to check out which girls try to sneak in not dressed according to school code, and the boys tailing them.

Late in the evening, I strolled into the gym where all the kids were hopping up and down to music. They call it dancing. Why they can't just flail their arms and wip their hair around like we did is beyond me. I spotted her and her peeps against the wall. She spotted me and broke out into a run toward me. How sweet of her to leave her friends just so she could hug me.

Cat: What are you doing in here? Again, my mother.

Contessa: Just looking around, watching the kids have a good time.

Cat: But you're standing in the middle of the gym. I wish mom would lay off the attitude.

Contessa: So are teachers and other parents.

Cat: Yeah, but I don't have a personal relationship with them.

I left the gym. I thought it important to preserve that special relationship between mom and me.