I Think It’s Safe To Say I Won’t Be Vicariously Attending Prom

Standard

 

(A series of texts during the Spring Formal I was chaperoning last night.)

Ryan: Did you bring your ruler, so you can measure if there’s room for the Holy Spirit?

Me: If I sent you pictures of the way these girls were dressed, you’d send Morgan to a convent before she hits puberty.  I need a yard stick.

Ryan: What is your exact job at this thing, if they’re letting them in half-naked?

Me: It seems to be me walking around, using a flashlight as a method of birth control.

(Thirty minutes later.)

 

Me: Goddammit! I was right in the middle of the throng, and a fucking Beyonce song came on…

Ryan: That’s going to be the weirdest Worker’s Comp claim in the history of man.

Me: So…much…flailing…

(An hour later…)

Me: We should have made a High School Dance Bingo card for this thing.

Ryan: Has their been an awkward dance battle, yet?

Me: Check. And now two guys have their ties tied around their head.

Ryan: That’s a corner piece. You’re one girl crying in the corner, from a Bingo.

(five minutes later)

Me; BINGO!!!

Ryan: Congrats. The prize is that you have to call her mother.

Me: Fuck!