A difference of daughters

One of the reasons I like having more than one kid is that even the same experience is never the same.  Take, for example, the 8th grade formal.  Last year, eldest daughter wanted a long, strapless gown and shopped endlessly (or so it seems to her shopping-phobic mother) and ended up with a second-hand dress at a very reasonable price.

This year, middle daughter went online, found a short, spaghetti-strapped, polka-dotted dress she could wear more than to the dance–for about the same price as the other one spent once you include shipping.  Dress arrived yesterday and fits like it should, daughter is happy, mother did nothing more than enter a few numbers on a computer screen.

Two down, one to go.

But next year, there may be prom.  Yikes!