My darling daughter was asked to homecoming today when she and the boy went out for coffee:  The hand-lettered sign reads:  “Hope I’m not too latte . . . ???” for you to go to homecoming with me (that last part he spoke or they just both assumed, I’m not sure).  He gave her roses. She’s already got the dress.

Gone are the days when boys simply shuffle up to a girl by her locker to ask with bated breath, in a barely audible whisper: “Hey, would you like to go to Homecoming with me?”  Now you must have a poster.  And flowers. It’s kind of public. It’s a thing.

I do think the “BIG ASK” has been toned down in recent years — at least that’s what my friend, a VP at our local high school, says.  Gone are the ornate and elaborate songs, dance routines, and petals strewn at the askee’s feet. Thank God. I cringed wondering what would happen with bigger, more consequential “asks” — but reason seems to be prevailing.  Or maybe the askers just have started to rebel. I mean, that’s a lot of pressure when you’re 17 or 18.  There is enough time ahead — years even — for creative, palm-sweaty proposals.

The most important part:  my daughter has a giant smile on her face. She’s happy to be going to the dance with a dear friend. I’m happy they both have that friendship. I’m glad I’ll get to take some pictures to mark the occasion.

As I gazed at her flowers, I thought about how much I love roses.  Then I meandered outside and stopped to smell the ones growing in our own backyard. We don’t really stop to smell the roses enough anymore, ya’ know?  So here are a few.  I tried to get close enough so that you can almost smell them yourself.

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