My granddaughter, Anne, is going to her first prom, and though what she wears is absolutely none of my business, I cannot stop looking, cannot stop making suggestions, cannot STOP.  I have grandma/mother-in-law OCD on this particular subject.  Erica, her mother, is playing me just right: a massive passive aggression.  She nods and smiles at me as I’m jawing away about the subject, but she doesn’t ask me any questions and doesn’t return my phone calls.  I am pretty sure I did this with my own mother-in-law.  And I get it. I really do. 

My neediness stems in part from the fact that I never had a daughter of my own to push around.  I can see God’s wisdom in not allowing me to have a daughter.  She would be living in Kuala Lampur and sending me jaunty emails, knowing she was a safe distance from my prying. 

Anyway, if you’re going to prom these days, you can A) look like Cinderella at the Ball or any other Disney character by buying a dress from an LDS retail outlet like “ETERNAL.” Gag me.

Or B) you can go looking like a ho.  You can’t imagine how many ho dresses there are out there for teenage girls.  (And even in the LDS ads, the models are looking into the camera with ho-ish looks).   My own choice is the one below, but I have no confidence in my own taste anymore.  I know I’m stuck in the early sixties, have never moved beyond Talbots. I know I don’t get it.

And I hate that.  I really really hate it.