Forget the glass slipper that fits just right. This past weekend, I got the little black dress that fit just right. Okay, it wasn't black. I had to write that just for affect. But, it fit just right; and just in time for me to go to "the ball," as my daughter and I called it.
If you read the last post, you know that I had signed myself up to help clean my church on Saturdays. I mean, I'm just a crazy woman who hates to clean. So, I decided that it would probably really mean a lot to God if I did the one thing that I absolutely despise. Yeah, me and God are cool like that.
My cleaning day, however, just happened to fall on the day of the married couples' black-tie event (the ball.) And since I had to give my ticket away in the name of being dressless, I decided to embrace the Cinderella theme.
Although in my mind, it meant that I would be on my knees scrubbing floors. And even though it was a catchy blog title, it kind of ended there. There really was no way to romanticize it.
I was kind of heartbroken over the whole thing. My life is not a cartoon, where Fairy Godmother shows up and waves a wand. If I had one of those, I'd ask her to wave a toilet-scrubbing wand.
Speaking of toilets, on Saturday morning, I found out that I would be cleaning two things and there would be no Fairy Godmother to wave a toilet wand. I would be cleaning bathrooms--as in the mens and womens bathrooms. That's not two things; that's like a whole bunch of things in two different rooms.
And the men's bathroom--Yuck. Ick. Men are, you know, stinky and stuff. And they pee in those icky stalls.
I promised myself I would not pout about cleaning or about missing the ball. I honestly couldn't believe how it had worked itself out. I'd be cleaning bathrooms instead of getting ready for the ball.
Or, would I?
Well, sometime around noon, hubby handed me a ticket and some cash. "This is for you," he said. "And this is for your dress."
"Is it enough?" he asked as he handed me three crisp twenty-dollar bills.
"Oh, are you serious?! This is more than enough!"
I was beyond thrilled. I'd be going to the ball, afterall, and I had money for a new dress. And oh yeah, I still had that little chore on my to-do list. I still had the cleaning of the bathrooms to do. So, at 2 sharp, my daughter and I headed to the church, where we bumped into a little friend of hers.
His father was apparently setting up for the big ball, and he wanted to help. "Oh, I have something that you guys can do!" I said, just before handing the toilet brushes over. "You have to make sure they are crystal clean."
It took us 30 minutes to clean everything. And to think, I had my own version of the Fairy Godmother toilet-cleaning wands. Nice.
A few hours later and I had stepped out of a super-hot shower and into a beautiful dress that fit just right. And a few hours after that, hubby was feeding me chocolate-covered strawberries under the stars. (The entire room was decked out for our theme, "A Night Under the Stars.")
With rose in hand, he walked me out to the car that night, and I truly felt like Cinderella with her Prince Charming.
Sidenote: I just want some props for calling it in my last post. I said that by story's end, Cinderella gets her little black dress. Although, I figured that would come a few weeks down the road. I really had no idea.
If you read the last post, you know that I had signed myself up to help clean my church on Saturdays. I mean, I'm just a crazy woman who hates to clean. So, I decided that it would probably really mean a lot to God if I did the one thing that I absolutely despise. Yeah, me and God are cool like that.
My cleaning day, however, just happened to fall on the day of the married couples' black-tie event (the ball.) And since I had to give my ticket away in the name of being dressless, I decided to embrace the Cinderella theme.
Although in my mind, it meant that I would be on my knees scrubbing floors. And even though it was a catchy blog title, it kind of ended there. There really was no way to romanticize it.
I was kind of heartbroken over the whole thing. My life is not a cartoon, where Fairy Godmother shows up and waves a wand. If I had one of those, I'd ask her to wave a toilet-scrubbing wand.
Speaking of toilets, on Saturday morning, I found out that I would be cleaning two things and there would be no Fairy Godmother to wave a toilet wand. I would be cleaning bathrooms--as in the mens and womens bathrooms. That's not two things; that's like a whole bunch of things in two different rooms.
And the men's bathroom--Yuck. Ick. Men are, you know, stinky and stuff. And they pee in those icky stalls.
I promised myself I would not pout about cleaning or about missing the ball. I honestly couldn't believe how it had worked itself out. I'd be cleaning bathrooms instead of getting ready for the ball.
Or, would I?
Well, sometime around noon, hubby handed me a ticket and some cash. "This is for you," he said. "And this is for your dress."
"Is it enough?" he asked as he handed me three crisp twenty-dollar bills.
"Oh, are you serious?! This is more than enough!"
I was beyond thrilled. I'd be going to the ball, afterall, and I had money for a new dress. And oh yeah, I still had that little chore on my to-do list. I still had the cleaning of the bathrooms to do. So, at 2 sharp, my daughter and I headed to the church, where we bumped into a little friend of hers.
His father was apparently setting up for the big ball, and he wanted to help. "Oh, I have something that you guys can do!" I said, just before handing the toilet brushes over. "You have to make sure they are crystal clean."
It took us 30 minutes to clean everything. And to think, I had my own version of the Fairy Godmother toilet-cleaning wands. Nice.
A few hours later and I had stepped out of a super-hot shower and into a beautiful dress that fit just right. And a few hours after that, hubby was feeding me chocolate-covered strawberries under the stars. (The entire room was decked out for our theme, "A Night Under the Stars.")
With rose in hand, he walked me out to the car that night, and I truly felt like Cinderella with her Prince Charming.
Sidenote: I just want some props for calling it in my last post. I said that by story's end, Cinderella gets her little black dress. Although, I figured that would come a few weeks down the road. I really had no idea.
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