Party Girls

A couple of weeks ago, my sons' school hosted a faculty talent show in the evening. This event, a low-level fundraiser for the school, is always packed with an appreciative audience that never goes home disappointed. This year was no different. One teacher sang a lovely rendition of Patsy Cline's Walkin' After Midnight and another belted out Rollin' on a River. Then there were the dance routines, including the crew of kindergarten teachers dressed up as little old ladies, dancing with walkers to Shake, Rattle & Roll. It was a great night.

They'd decided to keep the bookfair open that night, hoping to lure in some parents on their way out of the building, and knowing they might need a little help, I stopped by the library on my own way out. It wasn't busy, but there were three girls standing together in front of the cash register, making their purchases. Not certain whether I needed to stay, I browsed around as the lady in charge waited on these girls.

They were all dressed up for an evening out, in pretty dresses, little shrugs and shiny shoes. And they all carried handbags. They were clearly there alone, and it reminded me of those old movies--none specifically come to mind, except maybe Grease--where the girls got all dressed up and then clustered together in their full skirts, covertly watching boys or studiously ignoring them. On my way out, I saw them walking home down the sidewalk together, a fancy little trio on an evening stroll after a bit of entertainment and a little shopping. I can imagine their evening was very special indeed, and it made me smile.