MOM ON THE RUN: 'Non-prom' dress a bargain for a bit of joy

I know something’s up when my daughter actually comes to find me. I’m playing mah jongg online, an absolute time-waster but also an absolute addiction, and normally I would have expected her to just holler, “Mom?!” and her question, or send me a text message, from wherever she was in the house.

But no, she’s come looking, and found me, and even walked all the way into the room and stood to my right, where I can’t avoid her, where I can see her without going to the great effort of swiveling around. When I look up, thoroughly suspicious, she’s got a big smile plastered on her face, and her arms are entwined, and I immediately know she’s not here just to say hi.

“What,” I say flatly, and I lean back, arms crossed, ready for a doozy. “Yes, I want something!” she chirps cheerily. “I have a question,” she starts, twisting her arms around and cocking her head to the side. “Well, really, it’s two questions.”
“Uh-huh.” I wait a minute, then, “Spill it,” I order.

“Well, Nate and I want to do something special on prom night this year, since we’re not going.” It’s smart of her to remind me that she and her boyfriend are not going to prom, an event that cost many hundreds of dollars last year, including dress and accessories and hair and nails. So I’m still listening. “And I found this dress, and it’s really cute, and it’s on eBay for only 20 dollars!”

I have to admit, that sounds pretty reasonable, 20 bucks for a dress and just going out to dinner instead of all that prom chaos. But we’re not supposed to be spending any money that we don’t have to spend right now, and she knows that. Hmm. “And the second question?”

“Well, there are two other dresses on eBay, too, and they’re really cute and cheap, and I was thinking …” my 17-year-old trails off, still grinning but head held high now, she’s switched from cute to confident, her body language reminding me, “I’m careful and thoughtful and I don’t ask for much.”

Before I even have a chance to answer, she dances away, trilling, “I’ll send you the liiiiinks!” over her shoulder as she trips down the hall.

Sigh. I match up another set of tiles on my game and ponder, without having seen the dress. We’ve all been so good, I think. Really and truly. I buy groceries and gas these days and not much more. What’s one $20 dress? Or even two of them?

While I’m debating, her email lands in my inbox. I click on the first link. It’s cute, a blue rockabilly sundress with a circle skirt and eyelet trim. Hmm. I like it, it’s inexpensive, and she’s not going to prom … and when I go to look at the other two, they’re gone already, somebody bought them, snuck them right out from under my nose, which of course ratchets up the urgency of the blue dress.

I go back and look at it again. I double-check the size and the shipping costs. And, as my daughter expects, as she demonstrated by dancing away, I click “Buy It Now” and commit to the dress. What the heck. With shipping, it’s only $25, and besides, shopping is what the economy needs now, right?

But when I go to tell my daughter, reveal that I’ve bought the dress and revel in the brief appreciation for my generosity, I find her focused on her computer, eyes bugging out, face red. “Mom, Mom! The Taylor Swift concert tickets go on pre-sale tomorrow! They’re only $58 each, and they’re normally like $200! The concert’s in June, can I go please please please?”

Argh! My brief my moment of glory, gone! My worry about $20, silly! For a minute I teeter on the edge of wet blanket … until I realize how perfect the blue sundress would be at a pavilion concert in June ...