Once every four years we get an extra day. Seems like it ought to be something special--a national holiday for running around and howling at the moon. Or whatever fun and foolish endeavor one might be drawn to.
Back in high school, we had Sadie Hawkins Day, on which girls asked boys to a dance called Twerp Twirl. It was kinda a big deal--the girl made a corsage for her date--of vegetables rather than flowers--and, if possible, took him to dinner before the dance.
In our senior year, I took John. We double-dated, as we often did, with our friends Stephanie and Steve. I don't remember anything about the dance or the corsage, but I do remember that we splurged and took our dates to a really nice steakhouse called Steve's (different Steve) Rustic Lodge on Lake Thonotosassa.Stephanie and Steve didn't endure as a couple, but John and I will be celebrating our 64th Sadie Hawkins Day together. We might howl at the moon--if we're still awake when she rises.
