Mrs. S. went too. This was a highlight of the ball. We were happy to be going together. I like Mrs. S. I like Mr. Gorman, too. I actually like Mr. G. more (don't tell Mrs. S.).
Let's skip all of the trauma that's involved in selecting a ball-appropriate gown, okay? I found one. Let's leave it at that. (I do, however, have several in my hatch waiting to be returned before my 30 days expire and I suddenly own hundreds of dollars of random ball gowns for which I have no real use.)
We survived the ball and now we are home. I have two photos of Frank and me before the ball but I will not be posting them anywhere. They were taken by a tiny short child and any photo taken by a tiny short child of a grown, standing adult never creates a flattering photo. Sorry. You can live without it.
I also have several very nice photos that my neighbor took of me and the kids but they are in her camera and she is technologically challenged and I am feeling quite confident that those photos will be forever trapped in her camera.
SO ... the only photo I currently have to prove that I was ever at the ball is this one. It is a photo of a photo. But it is a great one. It is a photo of a photo strip of me and Mrs. S. in a photo booth at the ball. It is fantastic. This photo strip has four teeny tiny photos on it. It's currently hanging on my fridge. I took it's picture and cropped it for the blog. The resolution is no good but that's just too bad ... those pictures are TINY! Live with it.