Daintily Dangerous

My older sister attended most of her high school dances. You know the formal ones. She was quite the social butterfly.

This tale is about her first home coming dance. You know I am not a fashionista in any sense of the word so I cannot remember what she wore. I do however remember that her date wore a baby blue tuxedo complete with matching ruffled shirt. I remember this because I had to palpate the shirt, it was that foreign to me. Her date was fun for me even before it started. My father kept asking my sister the name of her date so that he could greet the young man properly as he answered the door. Thirty minutes before Jeff arrived, my father kept repeating his name. My guess was he didn’t want to embarrass my sister or himself once he arrived. Even as he was walking toward the door, he asked one last time. In unison, my sister and I said Jeff.

“Phillip, how wonderful to see you” my father said as he shook the young man’s hand. I also remember my sisters audible groan. Top that off with me massaging the ruffled shirt, I am sure she couldn’t wait to get her date started. Off to dinner and dancing they went. Her curfew was reviewed several times in the few minutes it took them to rush out the door.

Later when she returned, mom and I were waiting in her bedroom. We wanted all the details! The ones she would share. It was odd that she never mentioned how dinner was she jumped right into the details of the dance. Finally, mom asked her about dinner. My sister turned the deepest shade of red. She quickly said it was fine and started to get ready for bed. Mom kept inquiring and my sister eventually told us what happened at dinner.

It turns out that in her attempt at being dainty while eating her salad, the date took a wrong turn. The cherry tomato that she bit in half while perched on her front teeth, made a very interesting pattern of juice and seeds on Jeff’s ruffled shirt. She said she was mortified. It took forever for him to return to the table and the stain did not look any better, in fact it was worse.

My sister was not amused by the amount of laughter emanating from my mom and me. She kicked us out of her room and slammed the door.

We have since referred to the story as attack of the killer cherry tomato.