It was my cousin's wedding. I was 17. I had one of those poofy curly hair attachments bobby-pinned to my head. I was out in the middle of the dance floor having a great time and dancing with Dad when I shook my head to the music and my hairpiece flew across the room.

I calmly walked over to the errant curls, picked them off the floor, and handed the hairpiece to Mom who was doubling over with laughter on the sidelines. Then I resumed dancing with Dad.

Afterwards everyone said how well I handled it. [Wink]