“We must go out,” she said,
“And get you a revenge dress.”
“A what?” I said through tears.
“A revenge dress. A dress that brings him to his knees.”
“I don’t really think that will help.”
But you know,
after spending the day at the mall where we went only for special occasion shopping, and having lunch,
and doing the things we never normally did,
but most mothers and daughters do,
it was perfect.
Just the events surrounding its acquisition cheered me up.
It wasn’t a sexy dress, it wasn’t even sultry.
But it was perfect.
It was a large floral print on a seafoam background,
But not too girly, I never liked too girly.
I had a hard time finding a bra to wear under it.
The sleeveless pattern cut close to my shoulder blades.
And when he saw it, and when we danced,
He did cry.
And I was more sorry for him,
And forgot my entire need to seek revenge.
Instead I held his hand and told him I was okay after all.
I have no idea where the dress got off to,
And Mom is no longer here to ask,
But I still remember the perfect day in finding it,
The revenge which was not so sweet,
And it wasn’t about the dress,
It was all about the moment, the times,
Which seem insignificant,
Which we never forget.