Spring Formal

Brishen actually thought he had the bubonic plague when he awoke this morning...or broke his back...or had e coli.  I felt that he should still go to the formal and fully live his final day on earth.  

Basia teased him quite a bit and was also pretty jealous.  

Jon took Brishen to get his attire, so I had never seen it on him until tonight.  

I took Brishen to buy the corsage.  The florist ordered me to sit down ("Mom, sit down!  You, come with me!") and whisked Brishen away to do all the deciding on the corsage.  He was a bit horrified and amused.  He finds all these traditions a little silly.  He chose a very unique tulip.  It's the Dutch in him shining through.

He felt his hair made him look like a "snotty rich guy with issues" just because there was gel.

Siblings said he looked like, "a shark," "a wedding guy," and "a bad guy."  He liked the bad guy comment and even thought of some Bond characters that he felt he could be.

He showed some serious signs of excitement as he waited for Avery to make it.  He asked if there were any more silly traditions he should know about.

He thinks the pocket situation in suits is strange.  Why are some fake and some way too deep?  He also wasn't sure what the back flap was for on the bottom of the jacket or why he felt like he was being choked when he sat down while wearing a tie.

He was a perfect gentleman when Avery arrived for the mom photo shoot.  He posed nicely while trying to avoid the chaos of little siblings all around him who couldn't understand why he didn't want to play or pick them up.

I received an update that he and Avery chatted happily the whole way to the venue on the other side of town.  The plan was to go for a couple hours then go out for coffee.  

Neither kid knows a thing about dancing or was in his/her element at all.  

Avery prefers hiking and Greek Myths to heels (which she never before wore) and make-up.  The kids should have a lot to talk about while they don't dance.

Avery was horrified by most of the dresses available and informed the sales people that she didn't want anything involving cleavage, prostitution, Barbie, spandex, or cheesy rhinestones. 

Brishen felt his shoes were shaped like Frankenstein's head.

This is Brishen's reaction when he remembered that I might blog these pictures.  Who, me?