We arrived and Captain Awesome immediately started scanning the crowd for his BFF, the little ginger-haired girl he has been planning to marry since they were three years old. I asked if he was certain she would be there after a few minutes of fruitless searching among the sea of little girls all dolled up. He told me that she had said she would be there, so we got him some pizza from the concession area and sat down to eat it and wait. Among the ebb and flow of squealing kids and DJ announcements quite a few of Captain Awesome's other friends came up and spoke to him and two girls even asked him to dance. He very politely declined both invitations. Eventually he asked me to text BFF's mom to see if they were on the way. I sent the text and asked Captain Awesome if he wanted to dance with me or anyone else while we waited for a response. He didn't. He finished eating and we made our way to the edge of the dance floor where we watched and waited. Here is a picture of Captain Awesome and BFF at the dance in 2015:
Then the text came. BFF wasn't coming. She was at her cousin's birthday party. BFF's mom apologized to me and said she was sorry for not letting me know, she didn't even think about it. I wasn't worried, but Captain Awesome was suddenly looking far from awesome. He hung his head so low and suddenly seemed much smaller and younger than an almost eight-year-old. I tried to lift his spirits without making a big deal of the situation. I offered again to dance with him. I told him we could find the two girls that had asked him to dance before. Nope. I told him we could leave and cut a rug at home if he wanted to. "You mean dance in the kitchen like we did that one time?" Yep. That was exactly what I meant. Finally a smile as he grabbed my hand for the first time in a long time and we headed out of the building.
On the way home I suddenly remembered my freshman year in college. Homecoming game. I didn't have a date and while I never would have admitted it at the time, I was pretty bummed about it. My friends had dates but I did not. I remember getting a call from my dad a few days before the game telling me he was coming. My dad is a football fan, and I'm not even sure he was aware of my being dateless, so I don't think it was a matter of him trying to be my knight in shining armor. But even with my head throbbing and my eyes bleary the morning of the game (it WAS my freshman year in college), when I saw my dad he may as well have been dressed in chain mail and carrying a gleaming sword. We went to the game together and had an enjoyable afternoon on campus. He didn't stay long after the game was over and I still had to watch my friends leave for the evening festivities with their dates. Because my dad had been there, though, it suddenly wasn't such a big deal.
Captain Awesome and I arrived home and did exactly what we set out to do: we cranked up the music in the kitchen and danced ourselves silly. We laughed and twirled around and busted out some moves we certainly wouldn't have used on the dance floor at the school. I am not sure how Captain Awesome thought that night was going to turn out, or even what expectations an eight-year-old boy has when he thinks about a Valentine's dance at school, but I'm pretty sure dancing in the kitchen with his mom wasn't what he had planned. For me, though, that night turned out better than I ever could have dreamed it would. I know the time is not far off when I won't be able to make things all better that easily. Soon enough Captain Awesome will not want to be caught dead dancing in the kitchen with his mom. I just hope he always knows in his heart that I will ALWAYS, GLADLY be his backup date.
