My daughter’s wedding is only three months away. Everyone, and I mean everyone, seems to have their dress picked out.

Except for me.

I’ve looked! I really have. But I just can’t seem to find anything that seems quite right. The makers of MOB dresses (code for Mother of the Bride) have two kinds of MOBs in mind: the kind who loves frilly prom dresses or the kind who is just about ready for a one-way ticket to the Shady Acres Retirement Village.

I finally brought home a potential MOB dress and showed it to my husband and sons. Their response?

“Sure.”

“Looks fine.”

“Wait a minute, guys. I need something more definitive than that. On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate it?”

“Uh, about a 6.”

“Yeah, maybe a 7.”

“What?! I need a 10! It has to be a 10!”

They stared at me blankly and then returned their unreadable gaze to the basketball game on TV.

So back the dress will go. And my hunt for the perfect MOB dress continues. But next time, I will wait until my daughters are home before asking anyone’s opinion.

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