Mom to the rescue!
By the time you got home there was only two hours before you were supposed to take her to the school for the dance. The first thing she did was run up the stairs to take another shower. She had the water on even before you'd dropped your keys and wallet on the stand in the downstairs hallway. You were just taking your phone out of your pocket when it went off in your hand. "Hello?"
"I'm between meetings did you get her the dress?"
You chuckle softly, "Yes love we got the dress. It's upstairs in her closet right now. Don't worry everything is under control."
She lets out a loud sigh and says, "So you got shoes and jewelry and nail polish that matches the dress already? Good I was worried that you wouldn't remember all that to go with the dress. I feel so horrible for not being there to help her put her make up on and do her hair... I suppose you could take her to the salon and let the ladies there fuss over her." By the time she stopped for a breath you realized how far out of your depth you were.
"Ah, salon? Don't you have to have an appointment for that?" The sickly sound of your voice must have tipped her off to your inadequacies as a surrogate mother.
She was silent for a while before asking you. "What color is the dress?"
That was an easy answer you knew that because you'd helped her pick it out after all. "A pretty pale pink."
For a moment you feel like the king of the world for knowing the correct answer but then your world comes crashing down around your ears. "Is it more coral, blush, rose or salmon?" You pull the phone away from your ear and look at it as if it just starting squealing loudly at you.
Lifting it back up, your eloquent reply is, "Uh... pink?" Which appears to be the wrong answer.
"Okay you said she's in the shower? Go up to her room take a picture of the dress and send it to me then go to her closet and take pictures of any of her shoes that you think match the dress. Send those to me as well." She pauses a moment then continues, "I have about half hour before I have to be at the next meeting... I think we can still salvage this." She sounded sympathetic now, "Don't worry I think I can get her an appointment at the salon I use on short notice. Get me those pictures and I'll text you what to do next. You are going to come out like a hero after this so you better have something special planned for me when I get home." There was a decidedly sexual hint to that last comment she made before the line went dead on you.
With your thoughts a jumble you head upstairs to get the requested pictures, the dress first, which prompts a message from her that reads. "Oh that is a pretty coral dress! You did good love." Then the shoes, each of which is greeted with another "No." from your wife.
She calls you back shortly after the last picture. "Damn they were fully booked. I promised her a waterfall braid, I hate to disappoint her."
She sounds so discouraged that you offer up, "I can braid love, not well but I can do it." Which makes her giggle for a little while before she gets thoughtful.
"It isn't a hard braid, I'll send you the video and you can watch it while you wait for her nails to dry and practice, maybe you can pull it off."
You spend a few more minutes working out strategy for getting her to choose the right shoes from your wife's closet and how to put your meager talents to use so that she'll be ready in time. Just as you hear the water shut off your wife is saying good luck and the line dies again. Armed with your resurfacing knowledge of the fussy things it takes to make a girl look beautiful you head up toward her room.