Going to Prom

It is a well known fact that the older male lives vicariously through his son, especially with regard to the prom.  This psychological disorder is know as "Tuxedo envy" and is widely documented in highly-regarded psychological journals with small subscription bases, and often forms the plot for those blockbuster movies in which old men are beaten by street thugs.  The older male is retrospective during the prom season and begins to wonder:  How would my life have turned out differently if I had passed up that 16-ounce RC cola and asked Tiphany to dance?

During prom season, the older male sees his old wife in new light.  He understands that his wife can no longer wear an evening gown without looking like a sack of potatoes . . . and yet, when she does wear a dress, he can't look away.  That is because he has paid for the dress and he wants to make sure he is getting his money's-worth, since he likely sacrificed two tickets to Phantom of the Opera for the potato sack with the Ralph Lauren label.  He makes his wife wear the dress for punishment, and they go to Wendys.

The older male gives his son advice before prom.  This advice is the same advice that his father gave to him (and his father before that . . . and before that men didn't have proms, they just grabbed a woman out of a nearby cave and took her to Sonic for a butterscotch milkshake).  The father tells his son:  be sure you have a full tank of gas, don't drink, and if you run into any problems . . . call your mother collect.

This sage advice has served men well for centuries, but most sons reject it outright, certain that they know how to Tango.  The father also reminds his son that his tux is due back the next day and he'd better by God return it in time to get his deposit.  

Because his son is going to the prom, the older male also tries to conjure up memories of his own prom dates.  But this is difficult, and often requires and enema.

Eventually, however, the older male realizes that his wife was one of those prom dates, but he thought her name was Ethel.  He can't remember if he kissed her at the prom, but all indications in the marriage seem to point south.  The older male, of course, is not going to ask his wife for details of this prom date (all of which she remembers like a steel death trap), lest he enlist in a full evening of photographs and memorabilia that she has been storing under the bed in a box labeled "My Big Kahuna Nightmare".  

Rather, the older male shows his son how to create a proper bow tie, how to slick back his hair, and how to say, "I'm saving myself for marriage, but if you'd like some lemonade, I'll run across the dance floor and grab one of those Styrofoam cups."

When the son comes home from prom in the wee hours of the morning, the older male rouses from sleep, having slept only marginally on the edge of the bed with carpet tacks pressed between his toes, and asks, "Did you have a good time?"

At which point the son asks, "Have you been up this whole time worrying about me?"

The older male lies, of course, and tells the son that he just had the urge to pee, given that his prostate is now the size of a raisin.

Both realize this is how the game is played.  The prom is over.  And after the older male wets himself, he returns to his lair.