Moogie is one of newfound Blog-Sistahs, the slightly older big sis who used to beat me up as a child. I know she loves me because no matter what I did to her, she has never let anyone else mess with me.

This is a story about my real-life sister; however, when Moogie is picking on me, I just imagine it was her on her first date. Enjoy!

According to my father, we were not allowed to date until we were twenty-eight. Why twenty-eight, I don't know.

Those were just the rules; however, there was one exception, at least for my older sister: Prom. More specifically, Senior Prom.

When my sister was a senior in high school, there was one really cute guy (Kelton) that she really liked and then there was this goober guy who really liked her. Comeaux (pronounced Como, as in Perry Como) was the goober.

Both guys ended up asking her out for prom.

Instead of saying "No" outright, my father "took it under advisement."

Then, for some stange reason, my father actually consulted me on what I thought of both guys.

I was a freshman in high school and my sister and I did not get along that well. In fact, there was very little love lost between us back then.

I was probably also jealous of her because no one was interested in me, so I told my father I thought Kelton ran with a rough crowd and had heard that Comeaux was probably gay.

He seemed pleased with that information and, not surprisingly, allowed my sister to accept the date with Comeaux. She was not happy, but at least she was allowed to go.

At this point, I'm sure there's a collective sigh in the blogworld as
everyone has now decided exactly where Wee One derives her miscreant ways, right? My father always told me it skips a generation and I stand by that.

Project on the horizon, my mother, of course, was in her element shopping for prom dresses and matching accessories.

After much preparation and planning, the evening of the gala finally arrived.

As my mother was busy dressing my sister, my father and I were in the living room taking down a rifle and cleaning it with good old Hoppe's gun solvent because, clumsy me, I managed to drop it in the mud early in the day. That was the first and only time that has ever happened to me.

When the doorbell rang at the appointed time, I gleefully jumped up to get it and greeted a grinning Comeaux. Before I introduced him to my father, I pulled him over to the side and explained my father was hard of hearing and that Comeaux was going to need to speak rather loudly to be heard. I further advised that my father was a bit sensitive about his hearing loss and for Comeaux not to mention it directly.

With that, I introduced Comeaux to my father and within moments they were practically yelling at one another.

Half-dressed, my sister heard the commotion and came to investigate. All she saw was a rifle in my father's hand (admittedly, it was only the barrel) as he stood to shout back at Comeaux who had been shouting at him.

In her haste to get between them, she failed to mind her dress which she stepped on and promptly tumbled down.

I guess I should mention, my sister was a rather well-endowed young lady.

When she sat up, the dress was pooled around her and the top of her corset was overflowing. After one look at her, Comeaux was rendered speechless.

Unable to contain the laughter rising within me, I had to leave the room.

From what I understand, my mother was able to finish dressing my sister and Comeaux was instructed to have my sister home by mid-night.

They returned by 11:oo p.m.