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| pre-cotillion duckface |
I picked up the WP and several of her classmates after Cotillion last night to take them to dinner, as is the time-honored post-Cotillion tradition. Every one of these girls - 16 from the WP's school alone - claims to hate Cotillion. Personally, methinks they protest too much. But...whatever. You say you hate it, you hate it. Sure.
"I had to dance with this one boy," the WP started griping once the girls had all piled into the car, "and he asked me my name so he could introduce me, and I said, 'It's Lily.' And he was like, 'Lizzie?' And I said, 'no, Lily.' And he was like, 'Okay, Lindsay?' And I was like, 'No, it's LILY!' And then when he introduced me, he said, 'This is Leslie.'"
All the girls giggled. Lily rolled her eyes in exaggerated outrage.
I laughed. "Bless his heart. What was his name?" I asked.
She looked at me like I was an idiot. "I don't know!"
Well, okay then. Who's hungry?
