Well, I guess it was memorable.
The Spawn’s prom squad arrived and headed downstairs for the final application of makeup…
When up from the stairwell arose such a clatter,/ We stirred from our chairs to see what was the matter. Apparently, the combination of high heels and a tray full of makeup supplies combined to unpleasant effect as the Spawn took a header down the stairs. No bones were showing, and she pronounced herself fit to continue, so the preparations were concluded and we got a few pictures of the quartet.
So off they went. A few hours later, the Spawn returned, reporting that most of the promgoers had bailed, either for an amusement park in Real City or to go clubbing. A classmate suggested that they do the same, but the Spawn and her roomie-to-be didn’t want to do that without parental permission. When someone said, “[Spawn], you know your folks will let you do what you want to do,” she replied “And they trust me because they know I’ll make good decisions.” So she and her friends made another one and came home.
She’s upstairs now, dealing with some scrapes and bruises from her tumble, but she’s okay, and I’m really proud of her. I guess Mrs. M and I must have gotten something right.