Homecoming week has been a very eye opening event for me.  It has made me realize that having a girl first spoils you to certain things and having a boy bringing up the rear is a little painful.

Here is how Homecoming used to be at my house when Ashley was in high school.  We would plan weeks in advance for the annual bonfire after the game at our house.  We would  have every detail down, including pre-wrapping the s’mores.  Guest would be invited and a picture night would be planned for the dance the following evening.  Parents of all the kids coming over for pictures would be informed and dinner would be served including but not limited to a chocolate fountain for dessert.  I would feel very organized and in control.  Last year we even hired a professional photographer for prom pictures.  Are you getting the idea?  A control freak mothers dream scenario.

This is what Homecoming week with Michael was like.  When I asked any question pertaining to the upcoming festivities I would get either “I don’t know” or “God, you ask so many questions!”  I don’t think “what is the plan  for Homecoming ?” is a very probing question but what do I know.

The night of the game I ended up at Target just an hour before kick-off buying neon items for Michael and friends. Now I am quite certain that they knew in advance that the theme involved them needing neon clothing but they weren’t overly concerned with that fact until four p.m. on Friday.(FYI…it is not easy to find neon clothing items to fit boys that are over six feet tall.) Pick up from the game involved more boys than I had seats to accommodate and an emergency return to the school to pick up someone named “Bones” that they forgot.  It also involved stopping at several houses for the boys to change since they had not thought to pack a bag for the sleep-over at our home.

Saturday was just as stressful.  I was told there would be pictures at the country club with dinner to follow. There was no plan on how they were getting to the dance from the country club until they were digesting their meal.  Then just a “come now” phone call and another three minutes later “where are you” text.  I had to gently explain to them that I wasn’t a limo driver and I had not been sitting outside their venue waiting for them while I smoked and read the paper.  I would require an allowance for drive time in the future.

I miss my organized girl but watching the guys have fun and experience absolutely no stress was nice as well. I guess I will just have to learn to give up control and roll with the punches for the next four years.  Y’all wish my luck with that.