Let The Music Begin!

When the wrangling of household-goods-turned-decorations finally came to and end, we stood back and surveyed our handiwork. There was the "head table", covered in lights, actually serving as a space filler rather than a functional party nook. The cozy seating area of couches and chairs sparkled against the back drop of my ficus tree donned in yet another string of white Christmas lights. The tableware was displayed beautifully quite near the built-in buffet shelving unit.

Music already danced gaily across the acoustics of the spacious room as my eyes trailed to what I considered to be the crowning jewel of the decorum. The photography area.

We'd set it up prom-night style, complete with an amateur (not to mention clunky)lighting system, and bedecked the 4x5 section of space to the nines with functional pieces of furniture, disguised by various and sundry disguising agents. The result was breathtaking from my view across the hall.

All that was left was the arrival of guests and the guest of honor: Newly minted sixteen year old Aubrey.

I truly did not know what to expect in terms of crowd disposition. The invitations had been completely under Aubs jurisdiction, and, in this day and age, 'we ain't talkin stationery.' I held my breath and hoped for the best.

***

All was well at 8:43 pm in the teen-aged swirl of guys and gals.

There was yet one party game yet to play ~ and the only folks aware of this fact were the conspirators themselves. A break in the music was a call to action.

"It's time for The Beefcake Beauty Contest!"

Where the titling for the event came from in the recesses of my being, I'm not quite sure. I was certainly surprised to hear myself say it, but it was fitting nonetheless, and the groans that rose from the audience now held in suspense at the "girls select your guy" preparations told me this event was sure to please. The crowd, if not the participants.

Good sportsmanship reigned throughout the countdown of don your dresses. Shoes. Matching? purse.

Catwalk. Be-thankful-this-isn't-a-bikini-contest-pose moments.

The night closed in good will to all. Including Mr. Gil.

"Mr. Gil - this was the best party I've been to! Especially the Beauty Contest! I love you for it!" spoken by a teen attendee.

***

Now that the curtain is closed on the whole affair, I suppose my outlook has taken a shining to the whole deal in a better frame of mind.

Yes. I can say it truly is Sweet to be Sixteen.