Oh Em Gee: The Daddy-Daughter Dance of 2013

Hannah has thoroughly enjoyed Daisy Scouts this year.  Our leaders and group are outstanding, and after a number of years helping with Cub Scouts, I can say that with sincerity.  So this weekend is the Girl Scout Daddy-Daughter Dance, which we have been awaiting with great anticipation.  The Correspondent just return from two weeks of a business trip back on the other side of the world, and he was an amazing sport to come home last night and be ready for the dance this weekend.

Part of the problem, however, is that even almost three years later, I cannot keep the days of the week straight.  In my head, I now call the first day of the work week "SunMonday." It's really Sunday but it's pretending to be Monday.  Well, I originally had the DDD marked on my calendar as FriSaturday, but then something late last week confused me, and I moved it to SatSunday (that's tomorrow).

So the day went something like this...recovery from late evening aeropuerto pickup, traffic, dinner...then grocery trip...then to the florist to order the special surprise I had planned for the Daddy and the Daughter...then home with some sushi, which was lunch...then it was supposed to be beverages at the pool as The Correspondent felt the effects of jetlag (which really kick in around 3 PM).  At 3:15, we were meandering over to sit and stare at nothingness with our Tervis tumblers.

We get to the pool, and another most excellent Dad is there and says to us, seeing that we're just arriving, "Aren't you going to the dance tonight?"  This sets of a frantic re-checking of emails, which leads me to realize my FriSaturday mistake.  So now we have roughly 1.5 hours to get the royal couple ready.  The first thing I do is call the florist and plead: "I am so sorry--I had said I would get it tomorrow at 2 PM, but actually I need it today!"  In response, "what time Ma'am?"  Me: "in 30 minutes."  And this is literally what the guy said back "Oh! Em! Gee! We will start right now!"  If nothing else, having a Filipino florist yell "Oh! Em! Gee!" at me over the phone was full of awesome.

The Correspondent, bless him for his patience at my scheduling ineptness, went to work prepping himself for his tux.  I got the girlchild through the shower/hair wash, painted her nails (all 20), put a little bit of powder, mascara, and lip stain on her, and left her sitting in her bed with her hair drying as I ran back to the florist (having pulled a pair of oversized chinos over my skirted swimsuit.  Awwwwkward).

This week, I have been trying to behave myself in traffic.  No cutting anyone off.  No yelling obscenities in multiple languages.  Letting people go in front of me (as long as they have their blinkers on...that's the least you can do, really people). Well, all that traffic karma paid off, as I got from my house to Carrefour and back to my house in 22 minutes.  That must be some sort of record.  I also gave the Oh Em Gee guy a big fat tip for dropping everything else in order to prepare my order.

Back in time for the hair dryer, a little curling of the ends and trimming of the bangs ("fringe" for the Brits), and then the stepping into the dress.  Off they went, leaving about 20 minutes late, which means arriving 30 minutes late due to traffic, which counts as perfectly on time in the Arab world.

The boutonniere and the fresh-flowered headband were my gifts to the royal couple.  Of course the two flowered items don't match. One is purple and the other is pink.  But they were prepared in 25 minutes by a really sweet florist guy, who had to drop everything else because of my date mix up.  

Oh Em Gee.  

This is Doha. 

She was over the moon about this makeup.  Let's hope she never resorts to the awful blue eyeliner and caked on eye shadow that someone wanted to wear circa 1984. I blame Duran Duran.

In her chariot, off to the dance.

Somehow, I'm still wearing my chinos over my bathing suit...sigh...