If the coat fits, it must be the wrong coat

His Nibs' nephew got married over the weekend. Fortunately, the wedding was only a three-hour drive away. Unfortunately, Daredevil and Drama Princess needed new duds for this occasion, which meant a shopping expedition. With both of them.

Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something terrible.

If I've said it once, I've said it a zillion times: I hate shopping. Drama Princess hates it too, and Daredevil would just as soon gouge his eyes out using the claws of a live wolverine as to be seen in a clothing department with his mother--to say nothing of his sister. There must be some bad karma out there for us, because we all three found ourselves trapped in Jacques Penney's the night before the wedding, seeking out a suit for him and a dress for her.

I turned Daredevil loose and admonished him to find something suitable to wear. Like what? Whaddya mean, like what? "Think, 'If my friends see me in this I'll have to change my name, shave my head, and join the French Foreign Legion,'" I suggested. That helped. Off he went, while Drama Princess and I scoured every display of female-type dress wear in the vain hope of finding a dress she could wear. Or rather, would wear. Shopping for her is hard. It's not that she's picky. Mostly it's that she's small. And to hear her tell it, that sucks. Yeah, give it a few years, sister; you'll be eating those words and wishing that's all you'd eaten.

But I digress. Remember the Great Swimsuit Quest? This was the same contest only with a different prize at the end. Same sorts of complaints, too. Women's department too big. Girls' department too young. Junior department too iffy. By the time we found her a dress, at the fourth store we entered, I was sure we'd missed the nuptials and the bride and groom had already left for Cancun. Turns out the wedding was still the next day. All was not lost!

Meanwhile, Daredevil had successfully browsed the men's department (at Store No. 1) and selected his outfit. Dark blue pants and a dark blue jacket. On sale. At the risk of embarrassing him and feeding a stupid stereotype, he's turning out to be a way better shopper than the women he lives with. How sad is that?

Everything traveled pretty well the next day too. I couldn't have been happier. Until he put on the suit and it was painfully obvious that the coat was too big and didn't exactly match the pants, which were also just a tad on the large side. Yikes. I can only hope he bulks up some and fills them out eventually. And finds pants to match the coat. At least they were both blue, she said in her defense.

You see what a miserable failure I am at shopping. Who buys clothes without seeing them on the potential wearer? This is why I've never been voted Mother of the Year. I took some consolation when His Nibs tried to show Daredevil how to tie his necktie. Guess who's never been selected to be Father of the Year? Maybe waiting until the day before a Big Event to try to get our kid started thinking about being presentable wasn't our best move.

As it turns out, however, no one really saw him. Or her, either. All eyes were on the bride, who was breathtakingly lovely, and the groom, who was dashingly handsome. My kids could have shown up in their pajamas and no one would have noticed. I stressed out over nothing--well, very little--again.

I just hope that when I'm the Mother of the Bride (or Groom), whatever they wear to the wedding will fit just right. But I'm in no hurry to start shopping.