Back home with regalia

Since we've been back, our children have shown true signs of loving to be back home. Nathan is back to his adorable and lovable self, sleeping for 10-12 hours at night, and Katherine is her well-behaved and cuddly self.

We're looking forward to graduation on Saturday. Nate-man will have to hear about it when we get back. Tonight, I explained to Katherine what the graduation was going to be like: lots of people talking about boring stuff and then we get to watch daddy walk across the stage. It was the perfect opportunity to introduce words like graduation, University of Florida, college and regalia. Speaking of regalia, have you heard my regalia story?

Now don't think for a second that while attending The University of Florida there's a mandatory meeting on what the term 'regalia' means. I'm warning you, this story might make you lose faith in my abilities as a functioning adult with two children.

When graduating with my B.S. I kept getting all this paperwork re: regalia. Yeah, yeah, who cares, don't have any idea what that word means. When do I pick up my cap and gown? I've ordered it, paid for it and selected my sizes. Small town high school had caps and gowns waiting for me in the gym. I put them on about half an hour before the ceremony, had time to hang out with friends and was good to go. I was an honor student so I had my act together with gold cords.

So fast forward to my first graduation from UF. My parents and family members are there somewhere in the audience and I show up looking cute. Sweet little black dress, high heels, hair and make-up are right on and some bling to complete the outfit. I'm late, of course (not much I did while attending undergrad was on time), bee-bop up to my friend Cheryl who's been standing in line for about 20 minutes and ask, "Where are the caps and gowns?"

She returned my air-headed question with a look of horror and very calmly said, "Kelle, you were supposed to pick them up 3 days ago in the Hub. We're about to walk into the stadium in about 15 minutes."

My dingy smile quickly turns into a "What? When did they tell me to do that?"

"Kel, you can't walk out there without a cap and gown, you might as well go find your family and sit it out."

"Do you think the Hub is open now?" (It's a Saturday. They're never open on Saturdays)

"Uh NO!"

"I'm gonna see."

Paint this picture in your head: Tight little black dress, with hose and high heels, pretty hair and make-up girl running 1/4 mile to the Hub, all uphill. Bling bouncing. She doesn't care.

I get to the Hub and it's closed. I frantically start knocking on the door and there's no sign of a living person. After about 2 minutes of knocking, someone peers from around the corner and mouths, "We're closed."

In a voice a little louder than normal, I politely reply with "Oh I know. I'm supposed to graduate in 15 minutes and I forgot to pick up my cap and gown. I ordered it and paid for it so it should be in there."

A slight eye roll and walking to get keys to open the door later, they let me in, found my order and I thanked them profusely.

Now, run back 1/4 mile to the stadium, downhill, trying not to trip or mess up hair or make-up too bad (I've got pictures afterwards). I make my way into the back hallways, find Cheryl, put on gown and cap and borrow a bobbie pin or two. No exaggeration, we started walking in while I was putting in the last bobbie pin.

Thankfully, my husband is much smarter than me, and knows what the term regalia means. As I type, I'm looking at it folded neatly in a plastic bag sitting on the desk next to me. I hope to broaden my children's vocabulary a little more.