It's Prom Night

I wasn't going to post pictures of my daughter and her date from last week's prom, as I like to keep the private part of my life private, but as is often the case, she goaded me into it.

"Put it on the blog, Dad. I'll bet you get 5 readers."

As you might have guessed, this apple didn't fall from the tree. She's sassy, wickedly funny and a cynic through and through. Thankfully she didn't inherit my looks.

It's hard to believe I found myself at the Burton Chase Park in Marina Del Rey shooting pictures of my little girl, who in years past could never spend enough time with me. Now, like Harry Chapin's, The Cat's in the Cradle song, she is rarely in the same room with me.

It's also hard to believe that three weeks from now she'll be graduating from Saint Monica's Catholic High School, where my little Jewish atheist daughter will receive the personal and spiritual blessings of the Monsignor.

"In the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord, Our Savior, Our Father, I bless you and pray that Jesus will continue to bless you. Amen."

Out of respect she will accept his convocation, smile and walk away from the podium without a hint of snickering.

And three months from now, my wife and I will be escorting her to Boulder for her first semester at CU. She will snark her way through the whole process and never let on how nervous she is or how the anxiety has kept her from eating in a week.

But I know as soon as the doors close on our returning flight to Los Angeles and before all the seats and table are in the upright position, my wife will receive a text. Or worse, a phone call, to the effect of…

"Mom, I'm freaking out! What do I do now?"

It's at that time that we will remind Abby to step back and find the levity of the situation. And to call upon her innate sense of humor to muscle through the temporary anxious nature of the moment.

Just as she did on the night of the prom when she insisted that she and her friend pose next the garbage can.