Every weekend, some time during the weekend, we will watch "Say Yes to the Dress" together.
(All bridal gown pictures from Kleinfelds.)
We will critique and analyze and speculate.
We will shamelessly scold bossy mothers, roll our eyes at know-it-all maids of honor, and help overwhelmed brides pick the perfect dress.
We will shamelessly scold bossy mothers, roll our eyes at know-it-all maids of honor, and help overwhelmed brides pick the perfect dress.
No other kids allowed. It's our time.
So Friday night I scurried through the dishes, grabbed Oldest Daughter by the waist, and said, "Okay, ready to watch 'Say Yes . . . '!"
Oldest Daughter looked at me . . . shocked and unbelieving.
"Mom, Dad and I are watching volleyball!"
"Honey, are you kidding? Wedding dresses . . . volleyball?"
"Mom! It's Nebraska Women's!"
Excuse me?! Can someone please explain to me how this happened? I did girly crafts with this girl, perched large bows on top of her head for the first 6 years of her life, bought American Girl dolls . . . and in the clinch she chooses televised women's volleyball with her dad over wedding dresses with her mom? Has someone messed up the planet alignment tonight?
So, I watched "Say Yes to the Dress" by myself (which, ironically was about dads and daughters!). I shamelessly scolded bossy mothers, rolled my eyes at know-it-all maids of honor, and helped overwhelmed brides pick the perfect dress.
And I secretly thrilled inside that my own daughter was having a bonding time with her dad . . . even if it left me temporarily dumped on a Friday night!
No comments:
Post a Comment