You’ll have the time of your life!
It was prom time at our local high school. As the mother of a high school senior, I would be volunteering to dutifully help on the post-prom committee.
A patriotic celebration was being planned with booths depicting various stages of our countries history for the long after prom hours to keep the students entertained. Now I usually go about my job of Motherhood rather indiscreetly, so as not to embarrass my teenager, who can be a bit sensitive in certain areas if Mom’s action don’t fit the mode of the day’s “cool.”
“This will be a snap,” I explained with an air of buoyancy, to Marge, my friend, whose son was a Junior that year and would be volunteering with me.
“We can do a Betsy Ross booth. She can be sitting there lovingly working on the first American flag.” Marge looked at me so excited, “Yes, that would be such fun and we can put studded stars and red, white and blue crepe to give the booth some Omph! ” “Ingenious!, I gushed. Let’s get started.
Our first effort should be to get a manikin for Betsy! I announced. Innocently, but with an air of confidence, I picked up the phone and called Mr. Desmond, the manager of our long-time department store at the county seat. I was sure he would be willing help out our important school project. After all, with so many students and parents involved in this event, his donation could create a certain amount of good will. Right? I explained my situation and ask in a very humble manner if he would be kind. enough to lend us a manikin for the evening. “Why of course, he replied “We could have it ready for you the morning of the post prom.”
“Wonderful! By the way, what size is she?”
“”Don’t know, just small.”
“Okay,” I managed a little unsure of the situation. When breaking the news to Marge of our newly acquired manikin, she was so excited. “I can get a pair of laced up boots from my Grandma’s attic. They will be perfect.”
Later thumbing thru the dresses at the local second-hand shop, I picked out an amazing blue buttoned- down-the-front number with a little bit of white lace tucked at the neck and sleeves. It was a rather petite size. Holding it up admiringly, I murmured, this should do nicely and fit well on Mr. Desmond’s manikin. Marge also produced a white ruffled hat like Betsy must have worn and I found a white apron I had used once in a school play. Our plan was to finish the booth in sparkling red,white and blue after we had donned our Betsy appropriately. We were so excited with our creative effort. “This will be a blast!” I exclaimed and Marge agreed. We excitedly awaited the day which would occur on Saturday after a busy school week.
,When the day finally came, we sprang into action. The plan was to have Betsy setting dutifully in her sewing room stitching the last 13th star on the American flag.
“I’ll pick up the manikin this morning. I’ll have it there before 10:00 a.m.” I assured my willing committee member, that Saturday morning of the post prom. Getting into my little two-door coupe, I headed for the county seat. The store was bustling with customers; the usual week-end trade. I looked up Mr. Desmond, and announced I was the mother who was to pick up the manikin.
“Yes, I have her ready.” he answered most obligingly. He immediately led me down the aisle to the back and approached a shapely body in the nude.
“Am I suppose to take her like that?” I questioned meekly.
“I don’t see why not!” he shot back without a minutes hesitation, stepping back out of the way so I could carry her to the car. Evidently merchandising had hardened the man so much that he seemed to have no discretion whatsoever.
“Well here goes!” Thank you very much. She will definitely be back the next day as arranged” I replied red-faced. He seemed unconcerned about my departure.
Reprimanding myself for not at least bringing a sheet to wrap her lovely curves in, I begin to thread my way thru the multitudes of shoppers, to my awaiting car on the street.
“Excuse me please, I offered to stares of amusement and disbelief.
“This is for our post prom!” I explained to one lady staring wide-eyed.
“I can’t believe the trends of this modern age. What kind of post prom are you having?” she huffed
“You don’t want to know!” I returned as I made my way briskly on, with Miss Non-clad.
Out into the street, I opened the car door of my two-door sedan and soon realized although my friend was small in size, her long shapely legs were going to be a problem fitting into my car. I tried to sit her beside me but her legs wouldn’t bend and she ended up in an awkward position with her tippy toes reaching to the ceiling of the car. I tried to lay her down in the back seat but she was too long to fit. I tried to drape her over the front seat, but that wouldn’t work either. How would I look leaving town with a nude woman draped over the arch of my front seat? People on the street were now stopping to peer curiously my way. She’s just a manikin, I wanted to shout to explain my embarrassing situation.
Finally in desperation I hit upon a plan. I would lay her down in the back seat. roll down the back seat window and let her legs stick out for the ride to the school. Yes, this was the only way and it would just have to do. So I got her in that position letting her shapely legs protrude out the window. I now was hoping I could get out of town without being stopped by the authorities. By then, curiosity seekers, stopping to watch my procedure, seemed to be waiting for my departure. I couldn’t let them down,so I began my cautious journey legs protruding from the back window.
The twelve mile trip to the school had been delayed somewhat by my trumatic experience so I arrived later than I had intended. Students, unfortunately, were milling around. for Saturday extended school activities. I drove around to a back door to make my entrance but found all doors, but the front one locked. There was no other course, but to go back to the front entrance for my delivery. As I pulled up in front of the school and opened the door to take out my prop, students milling around looked on intently.
“Gosh Mrs. R what is that for?”giggled a kid standing by.
“It’s a prop for the post prom.” I breezed as I hurried quickly into the school, covering as much of Miss Non-Clad that I could with a spring jacket .
“I can hardly wait! This ought to be a good one!” ! was his sheepish reply.
Hurrying quickly down the corridor to the gymnasium, I finally spotted Marge, who saw Miss Non-clad in her natural beauty and quickly produced our patriotic blue dress, an apron and ruffly hat quickly to get Betsy decent.
“Goodness, you would have thought the man wouldn’t have sent her in the nude,! she exclaimed half laughing, half sympathizing.
“I never thought I would have to bring her something to wear for the trip.You wouldn’t believe what the dedication to motherhood puts you through. What a morning!”
“I could not find a flag with thirteen stars! I’ve looked down every avenue!” Marge lamented as she produced a flag with fifty stars.”
“It’s too late now to do anything different. We’ll have to camouflage that part some way.” We began creating Betsy’s adornment for the occasion.
“Thank goodness we finally got her decent.” I managed with a sigh of relief.
Finally we had everything in place. Betsy looked austere in her beautiful blue dress, bib apron and cap. Placed effectively in front of her was the supposed flag of 1776 with only one star left for Betsy to finish. The rest of the stars were discretely hidden. We were smug with ingenuity. “That represents our story in history well. Betsy’s suppose to be fashioning the flag,and it should be a work in progress”, we decided. We then finished our booth with red and white flowing crepe paper stripes and glistening stars placed at random intervals through out the booth.
The prom and post prom was a huge success with fun booths of many types to keep the kids occupied and other displays of the 1776 era such as ours to accent the occasion. There was only one mar in the event. . .after the gala had ended and a few students were still mulling around, I was to hear,
“Gosh Mrs. R, GET REAL! Betsy Ross has too many stars on her flag!
In checking, we found that some enterprising student, had let curiosity get the best of him, and found a way to expose our little secret of too many stars on the flag.
” Well what else could you expect from a woman who comes to work half dressed? announced another.
The group all convulsed in laughter.
Marge and I just rolled our eyes. “You can’t win with teenagers!” we decided.
“Would I work on a post prom committee again?
“Are you kidding?”
