In our household, December is a time of great and frenetic activity. There are the holidays themselves, there is a certain amount of volunteer work that Herself loves to do, there is shopping and wrapping and planning time with the boys and the grandchildren. There is also an annual event called The Lieutenants’ Ball. For Herself this is “prom time.”

Each year my organization stages a rather nice black tie dinner dance which has become the major event on the social calendar of the mistress of the house. Planning is akin to the operations plan for the invasion of Afghanistan, and as with all successful plans, this one begins early. I have it easy. I just dig out my Army mess kit and hope it hasn’t suffered the ravages of “closet shrinkage” since last year then find my links, studs and black bowtie (I can still tie my own thank you). Back up is the old reliable tux. Alas, it is not so easy for Herself. One must never be seen in the same ensemble two seasons in a row. The great shopping safari begins in September.

When she puts her mind to it Herself is an organized, methodical field officer who knows how to plan and execute a mission, to wit, shopping for the perfect prom outfit within budget (a military secret that number). The problem is she has a certain lack of decisiveness when it comes to making the final decision. The operation requires a detailed reconnaissance accompanied by her troops (that would be me) or her consulting team, to wit the sister who is a Brigadier General of the Fashion Police. Trust us it is far less expensive if we don’t involve the Brigadier! Several recons are completed then panic sets in and we go out on the final operation usually a week before the big event.

For tradition sake we always make a stop at Talbot’s to see “the nice lady.” I usually know we’re in trouble when we enter and the entire store staff lines up at attention and sounds off “good afternoon Mam, we’re here to assist you in any way.” We are now at the Sir and Mam age.  We usually don’t find anything for the prom, but Herself doesn’t want to hurt the nice lady’s feelings so she usually gets an outfit or two. After all, they do send her a Christmas card every year.

Boxes and bags in hand and following at a respectful distance, I follow Herself to the next destination shop, White and Black. The convention is that I’m asked what I like. I offer a suggestion and it is promptly disregarded as the ravings of some addled dolt as she hooks up with the organizational nice lady and then proceeds to try on a dozen or so outfits. Usually there is another husband or boyfriend present and we while away the hours looking out the windows or appreciating the very attractive sales ladies. They are, after all, God’s creatures too.

Finally Herself has made a decision that is stylish, comfortable and will pass muster with the Brigadier who, along with her well trained mate, will also be attending the prom. All is not done though. Herself is well cognizant of the eleventh commandment when shopping for a ball outfit, “we must accessorize!” We now pick earrings, bracelets, necklaces, evening bag and whatever else seems to do the trick. This year it was a feather corsage thing.

Well friends, the Lieutenants’ Ball is now in the memory book. Herself and the Brigadier looked positively marvelous. Closet shrinkage wasn’t too drastic so I didn’t look too much like the organ grinder’s monkey in my mess kit and the brother-in-law and I danced every dance with the ladies so a grand time was had by all. Every detail is now in Herself’s book of golden memories so we’re all set until next September when we start the whole adventure all over again. You only go this way once so you may as well accessorize and enjoy it. The feather thing is kind of cute too.