Sunday, April 20, 2008

Hot Chocolate

Last night Frappacino went with her boyfriend to his prom. I've been given his permission to relate the following events to y'all here on this blog. Of course, there will be no identifiable pictures. I am sorry.

So, yesterday was a busy day here! Not only did I do Frappacino's hair and make-up, but her friend's. Our house was abuzz with activity as this girl's family all came along. They are our buddies and we do all sorts of things together, like camp and eat. We had bobby pins, clippies, curling irons, blow dryers, nail polish and all kinds of other things strewn about. It was a lot of fun. Unfortunately, Frappacino's Rascal Flatts t-shirt had to be sacrificed on the alter of beauty and was cut off of her so as to avoid messing up her up do.

We were under the impression that we were taking our daughter to her boyfriend's house so that his parents could see Frappacino and take pictures and that they would leave from there. Our friends left to get their daughter home and dressed before her date picked her up. These friends are the kind of friends that we don't bother to pick up for. I mean, sometimes we do, but it doesn't matter if we don't. Our house was a wreck when we learned that he was coming here to pick her up. I freaked out as I thought his parents were coming too, to take pictures. But, no, Frappacino's prom is next weekend so they are going to take pictures then. Whew! We still had to run around and make the front room presentable though.

Frappacino's hair started to fall so she wanted me to fix it. We were under the gun so it was a bit stressful. It did not go well and I ended up having to take it down and re-do it. The boyfriend got here and... well, she wasn't even dressed! He sat in the front room with Mr. Macchiato and Double Shot for about 10 minutes waiting. The boyfriend is over 6 ft. tall, but Frappacino is nearly 5'10" and her heels put them eye to eye and made her feel like she was taller so she took them off while I documented the exchange of boutonniere and wrist corsage on film. The boyfriend leaned down and saw that we'd left the impressive price tag of $14.99 on one of her shoes and proceeded to peel it off for her. Gulp.

Then we were off to the yard for some more pictures. I admit I got a little teary as they walked off toward his car. Only the boyfriend couldn't find his keys. We sent Double Shot to check the couch where he'd been sitting. No keys. He had locked them in his car. We all stood around looking stupid for a bit and then we told him to take my car. Only... my car was out of gas. We gave them a gas card and sent them on their way. The boyfriend was just going to swing by his house to get the extra set of keys after the prom before they came back to our house to change. They had plans to go to our friend's house and hang out after the prom with their daughter and her date.

We went into the house and had a bit of fun laughing about what had just gone on. Apparently, when Mr. Macchiato and I turned to go into the house to get my set of keys for him, the boyfriend muttered under his breath, "I am such a retard," much to Double Shot's utter delight at having gotten to witness it. A bit of love grew in our hearts for the boy. Yup, he fits in around here pretty well.

Then the phone rang. It was Frappacino. They were on their way back to the house. The prom tickets were in his glove compartment and his Dad was on the way to our house with his extra keys. The house was a mess, but the front room was okay so I didn't get too freaked out. The boyfriend lives a bit away so they got back here and had to wait a bit. The boyfriend called the restaurant on his cell phone to tell them they were going to be late. As he was talking he meandered throughout the house! Ummmm... laundry needing to be folded on the couches in the family room... he saw it. Chances he noticed the pile with my big ole grannie panties mixed throughout... uh... pretty good. Kitchen? Dishes everywhere. Saw it. Yeah. Ain't that nice?

Well, we all sat down to wait. Double Shot told the Boyfriend that he's like family now. We laughed. We then discussed whether I could blog about this or not. We discussed the need for him to have his very own blog name. The boyfriend shall, from henceforth and forevermore, be known as Hot Chocolate on this here blog.

Then... Hot Chocolate's glasses broke. The little nose protector came out because it was cracked. Only he couldn't get it to snap back in because there was a tiny screw in the way. We watched him fumble around with it as he became a bit flustered. I asked him if he wanted me to try. He did. I did. It didn't help. Frappacino went off in search of a tiny screw driver. She couldn't find one. Double Shot found one but it was too wide. He then got an exacto knife and we took the blade out and, with great concentration and dexterity, I was able to get his glasses back together... just as his Dad arrived.

More laughing, more pictures, and then they were finally on their way. Hot Chocolate's Dad hung out for a bit and we laughed some more. Double Shot was sure to re-enact the, "I'm such a retard." moment for him.

We then left to go to our friend's house for dinner. The friends that had been over all afternoon and the friends that the kids were going to be hanging out with later. Only when we got to their house only there kids were there. And we'd just talked to them! So what could we do? We hung out with their kids and noticed their digital camera just sitting on the coffee table. So, I picked it up and we had a ... little bit of fun with it. I took pictures of Mr. Macchiato making very attractive faces and then some of myself that might have been a bit cross eyed. I may have stuck my tongue out like I was going to stick it in Mr. Macchiato's ear. I then left the camera on the table. When they finally got back home from the little jaunt they took even though they knew we were on the way to their house I asked to see the pictures they took of their daughter and her date. They saw the pictures and laughed. I got the camera and was going to delete those pictures, but it was rudely ripped from my hands and then somehow enabled so that I could not erase those pictures.

We had dinner. We sat around. We laughed. We went home to be there when Hot Chocolate and Frappacino returned to change their clothes. They had to come back to our house because Frappacino didn't have any clean pants and I had to wash her some. The friends said we could come back and hang out upstairs while the kids hung out downstairs. That sounded good to us so we told the kids when they got here. They had had a great time and didn't seem put off by the fact that we were going to be hanging out where they were. They headed out about 20 minutes before we did. Mr. Macchiato had fallen asleep on the couch before they got home and was slow in coming round.

On the way back over to the friends' we stopped at 7-11 and bought some redbull. We bought enough for everyone. When we pulled up... we did not see Hot Chocolate's car anywhere. We were concerned and tried to reach Frappacino on her cell phone... no answer. We stayed outside a bit and tried to figure out what might have happened to them. We thought that maybe Frappacino couldn't find her way there in the dark. We went inside and asked if Frappacino was there or had called. They said they thought the kids were with us. I told them they left well before us and should have been there.

Well, they were there! They were hiding in the basement and had parked the car on another street just to freak us out. And they did. The kids were more than tickled with themselves. After things settled down... I noticed that they had their picture frame that switches pictures turned on... and... and.... they put the pictures we had taken while we were waiting for them earlier into it... and Hot Chocolate saw them!

Hot Chocolate is a very nice boy. And, hey, Hot Chocolate, if you read this... Keep your shirt on!

7 comments:

Karen Deborah said...

OMG too cute. email me some picchas please

Meredreth! said...

I have the same anxiety about unexpected visits to my home. Especially since my "southern living" appeal only flashes around the holidays and perhaps a few other seasonal appearnces. My matra, "if you're not gonna like me because the state of my home, you're probably not worth likin'". It may be a cop out, but it gets me by. :)

http://meredreth.blogspot.com/2008/04/dirt-devil.html

Flea said...

I wanna see the pictures! :)

Coffee Bean said...

I have got a great picture of Hot Chocolate looking into his car as he realizes the keys are in it! I can't post identifiable pictures of anyone but me on here though... and I go back and forth on that which is why my picture comes and goes. I like to be able to picture the person whose blog I'm reading in my mind as I am reading along. I need to be more conscious of taking bloggable pictures.

MUD said...

Sounds like the adventure of the flat tire and the white pants. It would have turned out OK except for the large glass of iced tea I drank. When you gotta go and your hands are black from the tire, and you gotta go, you hope someone with clean hands will help. No such luck. Greasy black tire hand prints show big time.
MUD

thislittlepiggy said...

Phew! I'm tuckered out just reading about it all! Glad they made it to Hot Chocolate's prom and back unscathed. Tell Frappacino that her red dress is lovely. From the back. LOL.

Michael said...

Hey, I liked the blog. Good laughs. Your blog is really well-written compared to some of the others that are out there.
Oh, by the way, "It's still on"